It's Not His Time
by GuillotineDreamer
Summary: A Fallout Fanfiction, featuring my characters Rasorah and Alexis - along with Boone, and ED-E. It'll be long, and things will be... Complicated. Complex story line and large chapters. Part Two is coming soon (The Mojave Walkers).
1. From the Mojave

Craig Boone believed his time was close; the 'passing of' his wife, spending hours sat up in the dinosaur shooting at feral ghouls - it became nothing more than a pastime. He honestly believed that, soon, his time would come. Until she emerged from the Wasteland. The Mojave hadn't been too kind to the Courier; the red-headed female, flanked by a temperamental robot by the name of ED-E, became something of interest to Boone. Something picking of ghouls couldn't satisfy - first, she settled her own problems.

This woman, origins left unknown, revealed to Boone of Benny - and the Strip. They found Benny and, one night, Rasorah chose to murder him whilst he slept. For Boone, he thought this would be a wild goose chase of problems - picking off Deathclaws in the Mojave, slaughtering the Legion Raiders. He never believed Rasorah would be the person he told everything to; Rasorah is not a dark-hearted soul. A troublemaker among the NCR, Bonne laid a small amount of trust into her; she took him back to Bitter Springs, where he believed he's meet his end, his punishment.

The waves of Legion came to the camp through Coyte Tail, but Rasorah was hellbent on keeping Boone alive. Limping with a bullet wound to the leg, she spoke to Boone again - he couldn't believe it. He didn't show it, of course, and his face remained in the same dull state as always. After this, Rasorah departed from Boone. He was unsure why, but she had told him she had something to finish - something only she could do. And so she left and, returning to Novac, Boone returned to picking off the feral Ghouls in the distance.

Meanwhile, Rasorah travelled the Mojave; she sought to aid the NCR troops where she could. A woman called Cassidy met an unfortunate end and, unsure of where her path was taking her, Rasorah began to head back the way she had came. She'd fought Raiders, Fiends, but there was something missing. There were no sneaky comments, no flash of a red beret out of the corner of her eye. Despite the people Rasorah had met on her travels, and the friends she had made, the night spent out on the Coyte Tail with Boone had left her thinking.

It's late, sunset, when Boone spots the approaching figure through his scope. For a moment he almost mistakes it for a ghoul - but what ghoul walks so briskly, with their shoulders back? Clad in the reinforced leather armor as always, weapons strapped to her back and the shape of ED-E floating behind her - Rasorah walks back into the simple town and, lowering his rifle slowly, Boone cannot believe his eyes. As he stares, almost transfixed, at the sight of the red-head through his rifles, something tightens in his chest. But, as always, he ignores it. That feeling was abandoned long, long ago. However, unfortunately for his pride, the memory of Coyote Tail suddenly envelopes his mind. Rasorah. He bolts, ducking down the steps of the plaster-cast Dinosaur without a secondary thought.

The shadows - he pulled the chain with haste, throwing open the gate with a spark of reckless abandon. Oh, Boone. "You're back," He says, his voice pensive as always. But... Could that be the ghost of a smile? A smirk? "You're still sat in that Dinosaur, Boone," A curt reply, with a wide smile. Despite the harshness of the Mojave, having chewed up and spat the Courier out far too many times, Rasorah never seems to change. Her flaming red hair has grown, fringe now obscuring the dark orbs of caramel. The back coming to just below her hair-line, always messy and tousled. High cheekbones and that disfiguring scar running down her throat, beneath the dark shapes of her armor. Despite the sun, her flesh remains the parched white shade, as if she was deprived. But even so, Boone has noted the wound. The horrendous state of ED-E's plating."We're going to need something stronger than a stimpack to keep you up and steady this time, Courier."

Rasorah spends the night up in that old, plastic dinosaur, watching the Ghouls move and dart in the distance. And, by the time ED-E has returned to her, the harsh bite of cold has set into Rasorahs' skin. A dull breeze lifts her hair, just whispers from the Mojave; starlight. Her gaze, so dull, lifts - the dark orbs reflect the bright gleam of such stars, as if a photograph preserved within her very eyes. Her mind drifts, and her gun slowly lowers. ED-E floats behind her, oblivious to the humans' thought; the Mojave utters into her ear, as if coaxing her back out to the wastes. It's no good, she cannot linger here anymore. Elsewhere, Boone has resorted to playing cards with Manny. And though Manny obviously disliked his late Wife, Boone has never found it in his heart to tell Manny that he knew - he suspends basic social protocol, choosing to keep his departure out of his friends' mind. He's managed on his own before; he can do it a again. After the game of cards and hard liquor, he retreats to his small room. Enough hours of darkness to gather his possessions and notch his rifle - maybe he'll miss Novac. Or rather, the concept of it - he shan't be missing the horrendous memories.

Bright light blooms across the horizon, as the blistering heat spills out across the Mojave. There is an unearthly silence, lone for the trudging of Rasorahs' feet, as she heads for the gate. Eyes downcast, still blank. There is no reflection there, just the dark caramel that seems almost glazed. She's been engulfed within her own thoughts, lost to the dark descent that was triggered by nothing more than the starlight; the golden hue of the sun continues to spill, bursting out across the Wasteland. Shadows stretch and form, still cool in the early hours. Rasorah, flanked by the casual ED-E, stands at the entrance to wait. All the while she stands, weapon in hand, and staring across the Mojave.

Cigarette in mouth, dull look in her eyes. Boone knows Rasorah more than he'd like to admit - as he approaches, adjusting his beret, the woman turns around and gives him the long, hard stare she'd given him at Coyte Tail. Though his gut coils he daren't show it, probably because he doesn't know how. His dog tags catch the sun, settling on the muscle of his chest - Rasorah can only assume he _finally _washed that shirt. The bloodstains have faded. Something has driven down Rasorah's cocky attitude, left her silent and watchful. They are walking the highway, and Boone walks before her. He says nothing. Silence. His eyes set straight behind his sunglasses, as if he daren't look at Rasorah for fear she may disappear. Eventually, after Rasorah lights her second cigarette of the day, he gruffs, **"Where are we headed?" **With each step her shoulders seem to sag farther, but her grip upon her weapon grows increasingly fierce. **"Camp Hope Forlorn," **She states quietly, eyes not leaving their position. ED-E comes zooming by, narrowly avoiding Boones' head. He ducks with a grumble, briefly catching sight of the red-head. He knows that the Camp isn't her real intention. Just a pit-stop. She's never been sure where she belongs, or who she belongs with. Most lovers she's ever encountered have wound up dead, shot in cold blood for whatever they possess. This thought taints her very blood, her mindset; how many lay in a Grave, by her bullet? For a moment, Rasorah's only movement is the cool breeze that ruffles her vibrant hair. She can feel it. Spreading, moving in her chest. The feeling kin to dread. The very same feeling that spawned the day before Benny shot her in the head; something bad will happen, and Rasorah dreads to think what it could be.

.

Instead of taking the road, and walking past the Toxic Dump Site, Rasorah opts to take to the Wastes. They'll have to journey past the Wind Farm, southwest from Camp Forlorn Hope. As they move through the battered area in complete silence, Rasorah keeping watch for any rogue cazadores, there is the sound of gunfire in the distance. Somebody yells, but their call is lost to the morning breeze. Briefly, Rasorah freezes. What was that. Her grip on the hunting rifle increases again, dangerously tight, and she lifts it to look through the scope. Red. She sees red. A flash of red in the distance, a group. When Rasorah raises her head she frowns deeply, and slowly looks at Boone. There is nothing in her eyes, lone for a darkness that is spreading. "Legion." Is all she says, her mouth dry. Bitter Springs, all over again. Boone slowly raises his rifle, his gut twisting when he sees the flags of the Legion fluttering in the wind. Legion bastards - his eyes narrow frightfully, pupils shrinking.

When he turns to speak to Rasorah all he spots is ED-E zooming after her with as much speed as his little form can muster - well, they're not even there yet and trouble's started. Boone could smile, if it weren't for the soldiers being murdered in the distance. Rasorah, despite her damaged leg, has set off at a breakneck run towards the Camp. Boone opts to follow, one hand on his berret - when he spots what Rasorah is running towards Boone is filled with something like curiosity. A tall female, but her face is streaked with blood and grime. A soldier? She's clad in the same colours as the NCR, but is clad in a long, button-up garment which she's rolled up the sleeves. Tights with holes and knee-high boots. A medic? But she's sporting a Hunting Rifle - a better weapon than anybody in the Camp. Rasorah's beelining for the peculiar girl - this girl sways, placing a hand on her head as if to keep her helmet in place. Boone struggles to understand _why _she's wearing no armor, but he can only assume that the attack was sprung by surprise. That and the Camp is useless.

This tall girl collapses when Rasorah gets close enough; the Courier catches the soldier, heaves her back to her feet, and asks 'what the fuck is going on'. Dark green eyes find Rasorah's own, misted with the pain of her injuries and confusion. **"Hunt to kill, Courier," **She breathes, her black hair swept around her face by the breeze. Rasorsah, as Boone comes trotting up behind her, feels her eyes widen. She swallows the fear in her throat and, pulling her weapon from her back, says, **"And to kill for the hunt, Alexis Hart."**


	2. Legion Blood

Boone can only watch as, Rasorah limping and the girl - now assumed to be named Alexis Hart - go into the conflict. Oh joy, violence. Perhaps a little rusty from the wait, Boone follows shortly after - mongrels. _Legion _mongrels. They come in a trio, leering at Alexis and seizing her clothing with angry, savage jaws. She drives the butt of her rifle against the skull between their eyes until the membrane cracks, blood splattering up her clothing. Rasorah has been cornered by a group of Legionnaires and, dropping low to the ground, she bolts. As she draws close to one of the Legion members she grits her teeth, drives the weapon upwards and delivers a bullet through the tender flesh beneath his jaw. A shower of blood splatters against her face and, turning to raise, she lunges for the other soldiers.

Gritting his teeth, Boone lifts his pistol in both hands and steadies, firing into the second of his attackers' chest. He staggers back onto his comrade, dead before he had chance to startled - Boone keeps firing, however, until the soldiers' face is nothing but a twisted scene of carnage. Oh lovely, no spare magazines. _Wonderful_. As he reaches for the bayonet strapped to his boot, a heavy blow from behind sends him sprawling to the floor. As he turns, desperate to pick off whoever has just attacked him, there is a flash of metal. Rasorah jams a blade through the throat of the Legionnaire, holding his head back by his hair. A gurgling sound - the body of the soldier drops, a pool of blood forming a red halo around his head. For a moment Boone looks at Rasorah. Her leg is trembling with the severe effort to so much as move, and the blood is drying on her skin. Just like before. But there's no time for nostalgia -

The fierce nature of the Mojave is instilled within Rasorah; swallowed by the mass of Legion Soldiers, the flash of the plating on her armor lost beneath a surge of red. There's a struggle. She knows that, no matter how many Soldiers she slays, there is no changing the events that happened beneath the burning skies. Somebody's screaming, yelling. But Rasorah has disappeared into the heart of Forlorn Hope, intent on slaughter to a new degree. A foot planted forwards, her elbow jerked into the grinning mouth of an arrogant soldier - he's sent sprawling against the ground and Rasorah plants her foot against his throat. Eyes of a mad dog; whipped and chained? Who knows. The Soldier dies by a brutal force his temple, and Rasorah darts on -

Merciless, relentless. She's travelling through the camp, over the freshwater creek running through the middle, before the sound of screaming pierces her primal rage again. Pivoting, rifle raised for the kill - eyes wide, livid, her upper lip drawn back to form a snarl. Blood. Plastered to her skin, in her hair, on her armor. The pain in her leg is forgotten to the hunt - at this rate, the NCR and the infamous pair should be able to wipe the Legion out. There's few left, and some of a cowardly nature are running for the hills. A grin - it stretches over Rasorahs' face as another cluster of red-clad soldiers come leering around a shack. She darts forwards to clash with the mass, the grin never leaving. She's battered, but she shall not succumb; the last soldier falls beneath her and, planting her knee against his throat, presses her thumbs into his eyes. He screams, writhing beneath her**. "Legion fuck," **She hisses, the blood pooling in his sockets, spilling to the floor. The soldier twitches and screeches, before he falls limp. Dead. Boone emerges from his own troubles, his shirt splattered with blood. He cleaned this a few days ago, god. When Rasorah and Boone draw together they exchange no words, only look at each other with the same, fevered look.

Boone and Rasorah look up as they hear a female screaming. Female soldiers, even in this camp, rarely scream. But Alexis is - a particularly large solider kicks her in the gut again. Her slender form rolls and, scrambling to her feet, she attempts to run away - there's blood streaming down her face. Her black hair, cut to just below her jaw and helmet since abandoned, sways back from her face with the motions. **"Courier!" **She's screaming as the Legion soldier seizes her by the hair, **"Courier!" **Instantly, she's exposed. She's young, but the scarring on her throat is the same to Rasorah's own. Collar scars. **"Boone,"** Rasorah hisses, **"I'm out of ammo," **But Boone's already one step ahead. He finally produces his rifle and, calming the savage beating of his heart, takes aim. The first shot slams through the soldiers' eye and, a red mist exploding into the air, he staggers back. And just for good measure, Boone shoots a bullet through his skull. There's an almighty crash, and the body of the soldier falls to the floor.

Emerging from his own strife, Boone watches Rasorah heaving Alexis up - the fragile girl has lost her conciousness.** "The last stragglers are gone. I filled up the canteens with water from the streams - but we need to get on higher ground."** He murmurs, strapping the rifle to his back again and squares his gaze upon Rasorah. She's bloody, her mouth and throat caked with blood. Leg trembling from the effort to stand, eyes wide with pain; **"Roger that," **She spits, before beginning to move. Around them, as they climb for the ridges, the Legion shot down by - surprise - ED-E. The little bot was hindered by a bullet to his side, but he emerges from the camps' carnage in a display of burning Legion - he whizzes past Boone, bleeping rapidly and threatening to drop out of the air briefly. Boone will occasionally pick off a rogue member who's feeling brave, and thus they leave a trail of blood and bodies in their wake.

By the time Rasorah has heaved Alexis up onto the higher ground, she's completely exhausted. She cannot breathe; her breath catches in her chest, and the taste of blood is making her incredibly dizzy. Boone seems to overlook her situation, perhaps lost to the notion of picking off the bastard Legion. With all the gentleness she can muster she places Alexis down against the ground, reclining in the shelter of one of the tin shed. Her eyes are bleak; Rasorah slowly crouches, ignoring the pain in her leg, to replace Alexis's helmet - the younger girl is covered in blood. It's dried from her split lip, her nose and on the gash across her face. "Alexis." Rasorah exhales slowly, before looking down into the camp. Mostly all the Legion are dead - for misfits, the soldiers at this camp haven't done a too bad of a job.

The sun. As it climbs higher into the sky Rasorah finds her aim wavering - as she attempts to help both ED-E and Boone pick off some of the surviving Legion, her vision unfocuses. Pupils dilating suddenly, a bead of sweat dripping from her nose. Beneath her shadow Alexis doesn't stirr - her thin face turned to the side, mouth slightly parted. She's breathing, but only slightly. Her lashes flicker after a while, and she awakens to the sight of Rasorah reloading her gun. Alexis lifts her green eyes, staring at the yellow haze of the skies - around her is the sound of gun fire, and she can taste the foul bile in her throat. What is this? With severe difficulty she rolls onto her front, staring down out through the camp - a frown. There is a darkly clad female stood staring, with a smirk on her features, up at them.

Rasorah spots her too - she swivels widly, narrowing her eyes as she peers through the scope. That girl. Her hair is kin to Rasorah's - a bright red, but the smile on her face is unearthly. From this distance it seems that she is blind in one eye. But as Rasorah's gut twists, a familiar sensation washing over her, the girl is gone. **"Boone," **She hisses as she raises, clutching **her **leg, **"Can you catch sight on that girl?"** Boone instinctively allows his rifle to swing in the direction Rasorah is looking. Yes. He sees the girl. Frowning instantly - for that girl has a striking resemblance to Rasorah.

'That girl'. Her name is Rasari - Rasari, with the long red hair and the blinded eye. As soon as Rasorah catches sight of her, she flees - she's quick, too. With long, bounding strides she darts away from the fresh brook that runs through the camp. Dashing between the fallen soldiers and dead Legion, her gaze flickering. The smile never waves. So stark upon her features it's almost unearthly; she moves in a darting fashion, easily moving away from the Camp. However, she's travelling in the direction that Rasorah intends to go. So, this Boone? Rasari has watched for long enough to know who her sister craves - though Rasorah isn't aware of this yet. What a terrible fate Rasorah shall have to endure. Aha!

Madness. This is all she is. As she darts away from Camp Forlorn Hope, the sand snatching at her clothing, Rasari laughs to herself. Breathless, she skids to a halt where the land is nothing but a cracked surface. Where the sand moves in great plumes, the air shivering with the heat**. "Victor~"** She calls,** "Viiiictor~!" **Through the sand the Securitron emerges, his screen flickering every now and again. **"Howdy Partner!" **He says in his usual, joyous tone. Giggling, Rasari purrs, **"Up and off we go, Victor," **- The metal creation offers the small human his arm, up which she moves. Once the small female is seated on one of the huge shoulders of the securitron, she pats his head in an almost affectionate way.** "To Vegas~" **A laugh - the machine states something else in his bright tone, before whirring off through the sands. Rasari looks back, to the camp, with a smirk on her face. **"It's not long now, Victor. That Courier? She's coming. With the little Robot and the Sniper. And I'll tell you something, it's going to be a hell of a ride." **

****  
Slowly, Boone lowers the weapon. **"A brief glimpse,"** He gruffs darkly. He turns his head and notes the terrible state of Rasorah's leg. **"There are Securitron tracks out there too." **Securitron? Rasorah frowns, grumbling. She's about to speak, when Boone says, "Keep up this madness and I might just start to worry about you." She laughs at him, but she notes the sentiment. Then Boone asks her _why _ they're heading so far away - instantly, memories flash in Rasorah's mind. _Tracks that lead to nowhere,_ _tracks that lead from the dried blood_. Rasorah shivers, freezing, rendered imobile by the sudden memory. Darkness clouds her mivd if only for a moment.** "I have NCR orders to kill Mr. House." **And that's all she says. Boone remembers their brief visit to the Strip, where House upgraded his Securitrons... Uh oh. House**. "Why?"** He asks, genuinely wondering why. Rasorah shrugs, saying, **"They want him out of the way. I had to recruit the Khans, and ****_that _****was tedious."** As she casts her gaze to Alexis, she says, **"Victor is the only Securitron that is allowed out, basically." **The hot breeze lifts her vibrant hair - Victor lives in the Lucky 38. She is distracted, however, when Boone appears with a stimpack. She shakes her head, saying,** "We'll need that for another time. A little twinge in my leg isn't going to kill me." **She grins at Boone's almost blank face - he's being incredibly odd, to the degree that she questions her own sanity. When did Boone start behaving like this? It began at Coyte Tail, when they'd sat under the stars. Her grin is sheepish to say in the least; the blood on her face has since dried, cracking when her face curves. The face of a savage. ED-E's shadow passes over Alexis - the NCR soldier shivers as she stands, blood bursting from her side. Panic crosses her expression briefly, before she pulls a rather elaborate stimpack from her belt. Though her hands are shaking and she cannot focus, she plunges the needle through the flesh - a loose squeak. Rasorah turns her head, eyes Alexis, before saying,** "This camp is a death wish girl. I need all the eyes and ears I can manage - would your commanding officer deploy you?" **The taller female blinks slowly, as if to clear her head - turning, she looks down the slope. Where bodies are scattered in pools of innards and blood. She points, mumbling, **"I don't think he'd mind." **She's obviously indicating to the body of her commanding officer - the headless body. Was that a frown that passes over Boones' expression? He could almost feel for Alexis. The things he saw during his service, the things that he _did_... Well.

Rasorah nods, offers Alexis a leaning support, before she turns to Boone.** "We're gonna' have to travel straight there at this rate. Victor - that securitron - works with House. Directly with House - Benny had him locked up to use the bastard thing to take over the strip..." **Until she put a bullet in each of his kneecaps and beat the life out of him that is. **"We need to stop somewhere on the way, though. ED-E's plates, this lil' Madam is in need of... Something, and Boone?" **She looks directly at him this time, something she rarely does. Her dark eyes settle on his own, dark lashes fanning again her almost sickened skin.** "We'll worry once we're done." **Making a note to pick up some ammo, and some of those fancy grenades, Rasorah begins to walk. For a moment Boone just stares at Rasorah. Something? He'll ask later. However, he does murmur to himself, **"Last time I didn't look after a woman, she had to die," **Rasorah pauses, looking back as if for explanation. Thankfully, she didn't hear him and she says,** "Eh?" **Boone just grunts, **"Itchy foot." **Rasorah seems to follow everybody elses agenda; when will she settle? Then again, Boone thought he'd settle in Novac with his wife. And that went to shit.

The heat is blistering; Alexis places her helmet back onto her head in the effort to shade her eyes - she trembles terribly, and a bead of cold sweat drip down the side of her face. Unbeknown to Boone, this frail girl hasn't always been with the NCR. She trembles not from blood loss, but her system is demanding a fix. Jet to be exact. Her pupils dilate and she stumbles - Rasorah heaves the Medic back onto her feet, teeth gritted. **"Fuck's sake Hart," **Driving her boot against the earth, Alexis steadies herself. Briefly she looks at Boone, glances at his red beret and dog tags, before swaying back to her former place. And then, again, she faints. Boone uses his initiave - he trots forwards, ED-E swooping past his head, and loops his arm around Alexis to help Rasorah steady her. **"We'll head for El Dorado's Gas and Service, head along that road... Until the 188 Trading Post. Then we should come to the north gate of the Strip." **She looks to Boone, whom approves with a curt nod - she chooses to leave out that, the last time she passed to the Gas and Service, that she was attacked. Thankfully, the decaying corpses will mark the safety. At least there will be somewhere she can repair ED-E and Alexis can heal.

At the trading post she plans to get some ammo for all three of them from the arms dealer - maybe Samual Kerr will aid with the repair of ED-E, and Michelle will give them something to eat. A fair deal. Veronica, the girl from the Brotherhood of Steel, will probably wonder why Rasorah has come back... Boone's thoughts have drifted, again, to that horrible day when he shot his wife through the head. He grunts, adjusting Alexis's weight.

The sun begins to set, the worst of the blazing heat vanishing - Rasorah is parched, her throat incredibly dry. When she cannot speak due to her terribly dry throat, Boone presents her with a canteen of water. They engage in a small moment of stupidity - mostly Rasorah taking his beret, putting it on ED-E. The dark shadows of the evening only enhances both of the their dark expressions, mostly the blood drying on Rasorah's face. Her caramel eyes raise, examining the dark shadows of the horizon; a lost world, a world lost to War. House attempted to save them, but he needs to be put out the picture. The Boomers are safely in with the NCR - all she has to do now is kill House. Of course, the Strip will provide the foursome of travellers with a little comfort before she does so. Fresh water - a bath. Oh god, a bath. It's the thought of cleansing her flesh of the blood, the grime, and god knows what else that drives Rasorah to drag her feet onwards.

A sunset; the sky plummets to a brilliant shade of red and, with the Gas and Service place in sight, Rasorah lets out a breath of relief - passing the corpses, Rasorah lets Alexis drop onto one of the two sleeping rolls outside. A breath. She struggles to breathe momentarily, slowly leaning against the support besides the broken car. In short, Rasorah looks horrendous. Boone draws into the area, flanked by ED-E, and instantly scopes around. After he's examined the car and checked the surrounding area, he returns to Rasorah - her leg is shaking terribly due to the stress she's putting her muscles under and, withdrawing a cigarette from her battered packet, she lights up. Through the plume of bruise coloured smoke she watches ED-E floating about, his sparking side catching the last few rays of sun. Besides the little camp fire, on the make-shift bed roll, Alexis has fallen asleep. Or passed out. Either way, they're alone.

Just Rasorah and Boone - and as the glow of the sun sinks behind the hills, Rasorah stubs out her cigarette and slowly pushes off from the support, grumbling,** "ED-E, watch Hart." **And with this, she marches off into the little, boarded up building. Inside is dark, dusty, much like the rest of the Mojave - gesturing for Boone to follow, the Courier slips inside. If Boone should follow, he'll see Rasorah searching. She's hunting in the dark place - the shelves, the boxes, until she finds what she's looking for - Jet. Obviously, not for herself. An inhaler - it'll keep Alexis stable at least. If her body is craving it, she'll give it to her. For now. Boone enters, the glow of the sunset illuminating the empty bottles. He frowns at what Rasorah is holding, but she cuts him short. **"Hart wasn't always a Soldier. She was raised by fiends... A good few years ago now, when she was about... Fifteen, sixteen, her entire base was killed by the NCR. I'm not sure why, but they spared her. Probably 'cause she was some drugged up teen and they saw potential there." **For a moment Boone is quiet, moving towards Rasorah with one, measured step. He's silent. Almost too silent. Extending a hand he asks, silently, for the Jet. The calm, dark caramel eyes meet the eyes she's never really seen. Standing on her tiptoes, she attempts to look over his sunglasses, but Boone steps back - she frowns. **"Why'd you want the Jet, Boone?" **The ex-soldier just gestures again so Rasorah narrows her eyes, **"Okay. If I give you the Jet, you take off your sunglasses." **Boone just arches an eyebrow as the jet is pressed into his open hand and, nodding, he wanders back off towards Alexis. He merely kneels besides her and, checking her pulse by pressing his fingers to her neck, deems her stable. Simply placing the jet besides her line of vision for when she should awake, Boone trudges back to Rasorah.

**"It'd be more dignified if you let her do it herself, Rasorah,"** He says as he enters, making a point to leave the door slightly open, **"Regardless if she's hurting herself, I'm quite sure you'll be able to get her off it. But finding Jet for her?" **Drawing closer, he attempts to reason with Rasorah. But the red-head is giving him that wild, wild look - as soon as he's close enough she reaches out, taking off his sunglasses. He looks down at her. Those they've encountered have always said 'That man has cold eyes' and now... Rasorah can tell why. The orbs of blue are a light shade, that has obviously been hidden behind those sunglasses; the blue seems to have the dusty tint of the Mojave. Without his glasses, Rasorah registers that he's probably no older than her. Yet, he acts so much older. That's a combination of his attitude, and the fact Rasorah acts like a child - for a moment, Boone thinks she's ignoring him, until she murmurs, **"I know. It's not my intention to feed her habit, but I don't want her to die -" **She attempts to storm past Boone, but he simply reaches and takes her by the upper arm. Probably inches away from her face, he says somewhat calmly,** "I'm not here to watch you lose those closest to you. That pain isn't worth carrying." **His dull expression softens for a heartbeat, so swift you could miss it - Rasorah frowns. She knows that pain, just not as vibrantly as Boone. Allowing Boone to turn her she merely frowns a little at him, looks down, then raises her hands to place his sunglasses back on his face. Then, smiling in a lopsided fashion, Rasorah says, **"Softie~" **And with that, she turns to walk outside.

As Rasorah disappears to find ED-E, Boone stands in the darkness of the building. He smiles. pnly a little, but it's still there. He must have a penchant for attracting the wildflowers.


	3. Whiskey at Sundown

Rasorah is desperately trying to keep ED-E from whizzing around - by the time she settles and has ED-E quiet, carefully tinkering with him to get him in a better state for travel, Boone has finally emerged from the building. He pondered, long and hard, over Carla. Whilst he'd stood in the darkness, the image of his wife came back to him as if she'd never been lost - the thoughts of a family, of his future... But he just shakes it away, not bothering to dwell on it. Knowing Rasorah, she already has -

Yes. Whiskey. Something they share very passionately to share in the least - the love of whiskey. As he exits the rickety building he spots Rasorah leant against the wall, keeping Alexis in her sights but still tinkering with ED-E. Seeing as she hasn't registered his presence Boone opts to just stare at her through his sunglasses, wondering what Rasorah must think about when left to her own devices. In truth, she thinks of her sisters, the fallen lovers. The wretched things she's done in the name of being 'The Courier'. Such a horrendous title in her opinion - her head snaps up and, through her red hair, she spies Boone staring back at her. A small, soft smile, odd on her expression, **"Gonna' sit or stand there all night?" **Smirking, just a little, Boone seats himself next to her.

By starlight the pair are drunk - they talk about the stars that dust the skies and listen to the sounds of the Mojave. Rasorah lights up a cigarette, blowing a dark plume out into the air. Her caramel eyes gaze into the distance - ED-E has been told to watch over the sleeping Alexis, and so he does with a fierce loyalty. That damned little bot is the bane of Boone's life, but he supposes it provides some level of entertainment. **"Stars," **Rasorah purrs from behind the cigarette,** "Do you reckon they actually mean something?" **Boone utters a deep chuckle, a sound incredibly rare. But the whiskey has loosened him; the muscle in his form, usually held so rigid, has relaxed a fraction. Draining the last of the last whiskey bottle and tossing it aside, Boone just shakes his head. Carla used to say things like that. The wild ones; there is no taming a feral heart. You either run free with them, or they desert you. Or make you miserable.

When Boone doesn't reply Rasorah just reaches over and nicks his beret with quick, nimble fingers. He turns, sunglasses lopsided and almost startled. A drunken laugh escapes Rasorah and, putting on the beret herself, she attempts to mimic his stoney expression. Failing miserably she just collapses into a fit of laugher, the beret falling down her face and into her lap - Boone moves to collect it, feeling naked without it. His hand lands, awkwardly due to his drunken state, on Rasorah's thigh. Even through the clinging of the leather against her skin threatens to dull the shape of her form, Boone can feel the supple curves of muscle, the shape of a woman. In that passing moment, Boone wonders when the last time was when he felt a womans' curves beneath his hands, or felt the heat of their flesh against his own. Rasorah blinks slowly, gaze fogged by the whiskey - the warmth that had spread in her chest leaves suddenly as she notes the look in his eyes. Is it the whiskey? Or a genuine... She's not even sure. Laughing nervously, then hiccuping, Rasorah slurs, **"Uhh... Boone? You can have the beret back now..." **

After Boone has, eventually, let his hand slide away and body heave to the side Rasorah replaces his beret. He adjusts it with one hand, motions sluggish due to the whiskey in his system. After looking at him long and hard Rasorah opts to ask, gently, **"Boone, what would you of done if I'd never gone to Novac?" **He lifts his head and casts his misted gaze up to the stars. A pause. Then, shrugging, he says, **"The same as always." **He knows that she knows he's lying; what would he of done? Gone to hell, that's what. Drank himself silly in that dingy, blood stained room - lost his mind to the thoughts of Carla and his unborn child. Always with the 'what if'. What if this, what if that. The very thought of Carla, clad in the dress he'd trekked through the Mojave for, dancing in the sun - when her head turned and her mouth formed a wide smile, laughter escaping her when Boone lifted her by the waist. She was framed in the glow of the setting sun, gold hair swaying around her face. Laughter -

The pleasant though bitter memory vanishes as Rasorah, repeating his name for the third time, leans closer to him. Her dark eyes lift, settling on his own through his sunglasses - it doesn't take a genius to gather what Boone's thinking about. He doesn't really have much else _to _think about. He turns his head sharply to look down at Rasorah as she arches an eyebrow and, although her eyes are hazy with the fog of alcohol, she gives him that long, hard stare that he's growing accustomed to. Yet it unnerves him; it's almost as if she can see through him, through the anger and the pain. See through those sunglasses for a start. Slowly, obviously still pained by her leg, Rasorah stands up. **"Get some sleep,"** She murmurs as she looks down at him - was that compassion on her expression? Who knows. He's too drunk to tell.** "I'll get ED-E to wake us at sunrise. Goodnight, Boone." **And with this, she turns and begins to walk away. Limping, too. It's after Rasorah has laid down on a makeshift bed roll besides Alexis, taken off the bulk of her armor and settled - passed out in the slight drunken haze, - that Boone actually replies. **"Goodnight, Courier."**


	4. Fragments of the Past

In the morning, just as the sickly yellow sun breaks out over the Mojave, ED-E still hasn't woken up Rasorah and Boone. Boone retired to the inside of the rickety building, passing out with his arm slung over his eye area. Rasorah sleeps awkwardly, on her side, with her weapons at all angles. Paranoid, no? The little bot is floating in the sky, just waiting for the sun to raise that little bit higher. His dented shell catches the sickly light, reflecting - somewhere a gecko lets out a deep croak, leaving a sandy trail as it darts through the desolate Wasteland. This slight sound disturbs Alexis - she stirs slowly, frowning, before she slowly sits up. Her black hair is all over the place, and she wishes she was back at Camp Forlorn Hope. Simply because of the water supply. She's weak, shaking, and her vision swims. Just as she ponders over putting a bullet through her brain she spots the flash of red besides her - her pupils dilate horrendously and, snatching the Jet that was placed besides her, Alexis shivers terribly. Is it real? Is it true? She looks down at Rasorah's sleeping face, making a note to thank her later.

A short while later, probably around seven o'clock in the morning, ED-E spins around and begins to play his obnoxious battle tone - within moments Boones' awake, staggering to his feet and exploding out of the door of the little building. He's holding his rifle and straightening his beret, yelling in his sleepy state, **"What is it?!" **The courier slowly sits up, rubbing her eyes slowly. **"Alexis?" **She calls, looking at the empty bed roll next to her - the jet's gone. With extreme haste she straps on the rest of her armor, seizes her rifle and scrambles to her feet. Boone trots up besides her and they both scan the Mojave, frowning. **"Tin-bucket must have had a funny five minutes," **Boone gruffs, seeing as he cannot see anything through his scope - he's about to turn around when, from the morning haze in the sand, Alexis emerges. Rasorah lifts her scope and instantly knows her friend is back on track - Alexis is carrying a machete. A bloody machete. Whoever or whatever she dispatched was spotted pre-death by ED-E so the event must have been quick.

The pair lower their rifles as Alexis appears, offering them a meek smile. Blood. All over her face. She shifts her pack on her back, saying, **"Just some Bandits, Courier. They were coming over, so I thought I'd get rid of them first... Good morning, ED-E." **The robot utters a series of beeps, bobs up and down and begins to spin in the air. Rasorah smiles and says, **"I'm glad you're feeling better."** Looking back she eyes the many empty bottles of whiskey - she knows what it can be like to be addicted to something. **"I feel better,"** Alexis pipes up, her green eyes carefully watching Boone. The soldier has clocked something. Alexis is wearing a necklace, and not just any necklace. Yes, he knew she was raised by fiends, but this is something... Different. It's a chainsaw tooth. It gleams in the early sunlight, flashing as she turns with a bright exclamation, **"I'll start walking. Maybe we'll get there by mid morning, and I'll buy us some food."** Her gaze drifts away and, calling to ED-E, she begins to move down the cracked highway.

Rasorah and Boone follow close behind and, as they walk, Boone slows his pace. He's watching Alexis with frightfully narrowed eyes, watching her black hair bob beneath her helmet. Eventually he reaches out and takes Rasorah by her upper arm, turning her to face him abruptly. She blinks rapidly, obviously surprised, and she asks, **"What's wrong?" **His grip is intense and, ignoring Rasorah's slight squirm, he grunts,** "She's wearing a chainsaw tooth, she takes jet, and was raised by fiends." **A slow sigh escapes Rasorah and, slowly, she curls her hand around Boone's own. He's taken aback when she forces his hand from her arm, her grip fierce even beneath the pipboys' glove, and she utters in a dark tone, **"Do not judge her, Boone. She may be brought up by bastards but it doesn't make her one -"  
"Who's her Father."  
**Instantly Rasorah freezes, turning away from Boone to look at Alexis and ED-E. Even in her uniform, Alexis is so obviously one of _them_. She cannot lie to Boone; he's already figured it out. Why he's so angry she won't ever know, maybe, but she's figured that his flashing eyes and gritted teeth have a story to tell. **"Motor Runner is her Father."** And with this she tears away from him, unwilling to be in the company of somebody so full of rage. Truth is, First Recon were attacked by Motor Runner and his fiends. Only six of them remain and, feeling hate bloom in his heart, Boone can't so much as look at Alexis. He should cut off her pretty little head, and take it back for the Fiend to see. His daughter? Why would the NCR want the daughter of a fiend?

The group's pace is stupidly slow due to Rasorah's injuries. Obviously infuriated by her own weakness and lack of medical skill, the Courier will often light up a cigarette and drown her pain in a rush of nicotine. Bastards. She walks in the middle - Alexis and ED-E moving up front. Boone remains behind, often picking up rogue creatures who move in from the Mojave. Alexis and ED-E are talking - well, ED-E's beeping in response to Alexis talking to herself - but otherwise, there is complete silence. Rasorah's jaw is tight, her dark eyes brimming with anger; she _knew _she shouldn't have told him. Stupid man won't smile again for a week. If he doesn't, Rasorah will stick a whiskey bottle up his a -

**"Courier," **Alexis calls from the front, **"We're close now. Are we staying here for the night?"  
"Probably. I don't fancy travelling in the morning, either." **She replies, grumbling darkly as she massages her aching her leg. Travelling so soon after drinking has made her head spin, her leg ache and her temper short. It's taken them over an hour to come to the 188 Trading Post because of Rasorah's severe leg injury. Irked and furious as they enter the area, Rasorah has to grit her teeth in the efforts to keep herself sane. Bringing the group together the Courier instructs them, **"Right. Hart, go and fill up on supplies. Water, food, whatever. If there's any stimpacks around, scavenge for them. On our next stop I'll buy the supplies - I'm going to go and speak to Samuel and see if he can help me repair ED-E. So Hart, you come with me. Oh, Boone,"** Rasorah looks over her shoulder as she begins to walk, **"Go and talk to the arms merchant. We need all the ammo and weapons we can get. Ooh, and if she has explosives, here's some caps to pick them up. We'll meet over at the NCR garrison later~" **She tosses him a small pouch of caps and, nudging Alexis, the pair begin to walk off.

Boone finds himself alone. He watches Rasorah wander off towards Samuel and Michelle, wondering if almost losing his temper was the best thing to do. God knows. She's offish with him; her eyes are glassy and jaw always tight. Wonderful. He's pissed off the craziest chick in the Mojave, and she's accompanied by Fiend scum. A shiver runs Boone. He has a dangerous hunch that, at some stage, Alexis isn't going to be any good for them. So why is he putting up with her? As he trudges towards the arms dealer, muttering, Veronica spots him. A while back, after Rasorah had split from Boone for a little while, Veronica had travelled with the Courier. She even gave her a dress. But as Boone walks past she instantly knows his face from the Couriers' dreamy talks about him and, calling out, she says, **"She likes you more than you think, Soldier." **When Boone pauses, staring at her, Veronica simply heads off.

**"Hullo Michelle," **Alexis greets the other girl with a smile, placing some caps upon the surface, **"What have you got food and drink wise?" **A little while later she leaves with some purified water, some fruit, sugar bombs, a brahmin steak for Boone and coyote meat for herself. She was unsure what Rasorah would want, so she got her brahmin meat. Everybody loves Brahmin meat - carefully holding the packages of food she looks about, adjusting her helmet carefully. As the days go by, Alexis can only wonder what her real family must be doing. Apart from being off their heads on the Mojave's drugs? Do they miss the scrawny, bright-eyed girl?

Meanwhile, Rasorah approaches Samuel. **"Hey there, long time no see," **He says as he watches Rasorah approach, noting her broad grin, **"Hello there indeed, Sam. Listen, I need a little favour from you. There's some good camps involved."** He nods, running a hand through his hair idly, **"Go for it, Courier." **She grins and, gesturing for ED-E and pulling a broken power fist from her pack, she says in a low tone, **"I need some ****_good _****repairs; none of this bullshit what you fob off on other people. The better your repair, the more caps I'll give ya'. Okay?"**

By the time the group has gathered over in the garrison, settling inside one of the free tents and stoking up a fire, night has fallen. Boone was genuinely surprised when Alexis presented him with a steak - even more surprised when Rasorah shrieked **"****_SUGAR BOMBS!_****" **at the top of her voice. Presently, letting ED-E scout the area, the trio are eating the food Alexis bought earlier that day. Rasorah, chewing through her meat, has taken to ignoring Boone; he showed her the ammo he'd bought. She'd just nodded and then continued to blank him - it's only half-way through eating that he notices she's had her power fist fixed. Boy oh boy, he's going to have to keep his mouth shut. That or have it plugged with a face full of metal. In the soft flickering of the firelight Boone notes the deep, heaving scarring on both of the females' throats, and his heart stops dead. That's collar scars. _Legion_ collar scars? Alexis is so young and, if she was raised by fiends, when did this happen? Perhaps some sick, twisted joke played by the fiends... Or the NCR. Either way, the steak in Boone's stomach jolts and, briefly, he thinks he's going to throw up.

Rasorah? A slave? He can't see it. He's never seen her without armor, so the extent of her scarring could be a whole lot worse. Even now as she finishes eating, taking a flask of purified water and sitting outside the tent to smoke, Boone can't take his eyes off of her. How could he of missed that? His mind flashes back to when he'd seized her so roughly and his chest constricts; that metallic flash that had rocketed over her dark eyes and her fierce reaction? Obviously remainders of her past had decided to crop up. And, all over again, Craig Boone feels like a complete idiot. The dark plume of smoke is exhaled from Rasorahs' lungs and, reaching back into the tent to seize the Sugar Bombs box, she catches Boones' gaze. He could recoil just from the raw pain in her face - that pain is familiar. That pain is loss, that pain is the blood of a loved one on her hands. He knows that well and, when Rasorah stands and just walks off, Boone's heart sinks.

She doesn't come back for hours. When the moon is high in the sky and the fire is dwindling to embers, Boone moves to go after her. He's only stopped by Alexis - she reaches out, tugging at the back at his shirt. **"She's angry. I'd leave her alone, Mister." **He knows the younger female is right. Hell, he even sits back down. Expression kin to thunder and, both curiosity and his guilt overwhelming him, he utters quietly, **"What happened to the Courier, girl?"** Taking no heed of the term he addresses her by Alexis scoots away a little, obviously put at unease by the question. Alexis is one of the very few people who know about the Courier's horrid past. She swallows thickly and, when Boone leers at her, Alexis instantly caves. Looking outside the tent, looking to see if Rasorah has suddenly appeared. Satisfied she's not going to have her tongue ripped out, the Fiend-Child begins to talk.

"**The Courier was born in a vault, but she only knew that 'cause she was wearing the vault uniform. She told me that all she remembers is staggering through the Mojave with her brothers and carrying her younger sister, Rasari. She had long hair, to her waist back then - she told me she met another group of stragglers and they banded together. They settled in a group and... Sort of survived."** Alexis pauses, choosing to leave out Rasorah's fevered struggles with nightmares. She shakes her head feverently, continuing, **"A Doctor called William Taylor was their medic and Rasorah was completely head over heels for him. But -" **Her face twists into something like disgust, and Boone feels his gut tighten slowly, **"Taylor was fucking her sister. But the Courier says she never knew it until it was too late, and Rasari wasn't... Uh... Giving consent." **Why is she telling him this? _Why_? Boone can feel the blood boiling in his veins and, gritting his teeth, he gestures for the scrawny female to continue. **"The Courier cut off all of her hair and, I quote her, developed a love for whiskey. She told me the end of those days came with the Legion - the group were taken into Slavery... The Couriers' three brothers and Rasorah did most of the work. Taylor was completely useless, apparently, but the Courier was too smitten to do anything but carry three loads on her back instead of one." **Again Alexis's face twists and, breath shivering, she continues in a quaking tone, **"They tried to escape, and it was going so well. The brothers went as a distraction but were found within the hour - Rasari fell to Legion Mongrels. The Courier said she tried to go back, but she was shot and blacked out in a sand storm and... Mister, you ****_swear _****not to tell her I've told you this?" **Looking at something like fear in Alexis's face, Boone understands the severity of what she's about to tell him - he nods slowly, one hand clutching his dog-tags despite his pride. Alexis slowly places down her helmet, her black hair wild, and she begins again. **"The Courier looked for her brothers and her sister, Will too. But she couldn't find them. So she walked and she walked back towards the Legion camp, hoping to find them there. But the Camp had left, leaving crucifixes and corpses... Her brothers and Will were dead or dying. But there was no Rasari... The Courier tells me there were only tracks in the earth, securitron tracks."**

Elsewhere, Rasorah has gone walk abouts. Sitting with Boone merely urges her to hurt something, possibly him at this present time. She's left her power fist and weapons, lone for her machete, back at the tent. The Courier has walked out near the deserted shack, pacing around and unable to keep still. The stars above coax her attention and, staring up into the darkness, the Courier lets out a deep, almost frustrated sigh. **"Rasari." **She murmurs through clenched teeth. Is she dead? Alive? Who even knows. She promised. She _promised_! But she couldn't even save her little sister, could she? Breathing in sharp, steady breaths through her teeth, Rasorah attempts to calm herself from the impending panic attack. She's close to just losing herself to her own wretched past, when somebody comes up behind her.

Instantly the Courier reacts - she turns, balled fist hitting the person in the nose. Boone staggers backwards, one hand clutching his nose. **"Any need for that?"** He grunts as he lowers his hand, thankful she didn't hit him hard enough. He's met with angry, angry eyes - and then Rasorah, rather casually, tries to walk off. Boone frowns, _not today, woman_. **"Courier -" **He closes the gap quickly and takes her wrist into his hand gently, ceasing her walk. But she won't even look at him. Her fist clenches, knuckles white and teeth clenched. Momentarily, Boone looks at the back of her head. Her hair is oddly vibrant - not auburn, but red. Brighter than the Legions' flags. A flash of Carla's golden, long hair flashes past his mind, and he forces it aside. Gently, Boone turns Rasorah - her head is bowed, but he catches a flash of her eyes in the moonlight.

She raises her other hand to strike him again but he'd expected it; catching the wrist in his hand he draws her hands together, forcing the Courier to remain still momentarily. The dull breeze of the night ruffles her growing hair; silver light enhancing her sharp cheekbones, eyes hidden by her long fringe. **"Courier," **Boone utters, drawing her wrists closer to his chest. Though is he pained by the ghosts of his own past, he knows what slavery in the Legion ensues. Especially for women. He saved from Carla from a fate Rasorah had to endure and, as Rasorah's shoulders shiver with the suppression of her tears, Boone draws her closer. It's been so long since he's shown compassion, let alone comforted somebody. It seems that no amount of whiskey has dulled Rasorah's memory, nor her guilt. The Courier lets out a strangled hiccup, her stiff form giving up as her eyes brim with tears. She doesn't cry for herself; Rasorah cries for her innocence, for her brothers, and for Rasari. As Boone hears her strangled cry he envelopes Rasorah into an embrace, lacing a hand into her red hair and supporting her with the other.

He can only assume her pride is dangerously broken; the smiling image of Rasorah is washed away with her tears. Yet she makes not a sound; just sharp, uneasy breaths through her clenched teeth. Boone feels her body sag and, dropping with her, merely crouches as the Courier sinks to her knees. After a short while, believing her to have got a grip, Boone begins to withdraw - but a hand extends, gripping him by the front of his white shirt in a somewhat desperate fashion. Her voice is so quiet that he barely hears her. He questions it, but she repeats it again; her voice wavers, stricken with grief, **"I promised, I promised, I promised..." **In her sorrow, in her despair, Boone can only hope that she's not as damaged as he. But Rasorah lets out a drawn-out sound kin to a sob, her entire body shivering, and Boone grips her tightly. He holds her head against his chest even as she cries her hardest. He grits his teeth, feeling desperately helpless in this situation; he presses his forehead against the curve between her neck and shoulder, holding her against him tightly. And, for the first time, he utters her name**, "Rasorah."**


	5. On the Road Again

They're just a trio of misfits with a floating robot. Alexis is the last to wake up today; she emerges from the tent to find the empty box of Sugar Bombs and ED-E floating around. Since he's been repaired the Fiend-Child has been far more confident that she can sleep; there's comfort in knowing there's going to be Jet at the strip. Even if she doesn't need it, death isn't a clear end right now. Anyway. Alexis clambers out of the tent and, shrugging on her pack, she looks about. Rasorah and Boone are packing up their belongings - Rasorah looks up slowly. Instantly Alexis knows she's been crying; red, blood-shot eyes, and a rather blank expression. But there's no anger settled there; Boone casts Alexis a wary look before he begins to walk.

Judging by the heat of the day, it's long gone morning - they're going to have to fill up on water at the Grub and n' Gulp rest stop. Maybe they'll let Alexis pet the Brahmin... She cannot help but to notice the tense atmosphere - ED-E lingers close to Alexis, floating besides her as she follows Boone and Rasorah towards the cracked highway. **"We should have left earlier," **Rasorah murmurs to herself, shifting the weapons on her back. Boone, adjusting his pack, just says, **"We have all the time in the world, Courier."  
"Time waits for nobody."** Rasorah shoots Boone a rather sharp look, her gaze unfocused. Last night, after her hysteria had finally died down, Boone had walked Rasorah back to the tent. Of course, they needed to rest, but he allowed Rasorah to explain in her own words what had happened. Of course, he _had _to tell her Alexis had mentioned it, otherwise the Courier wouldn't have said anything. When Boone asked Rasorah what the Legion did to both herself and her sister Rasorah froze, went pale, and just shook her head. The horrors which she endured... Boone won't even begin to think about it.

Rasorah's leg seems to be healing better and, as they move down the roads, she slows to stand besides Alexis. Alexis stiffens, obviously frightened of the Couriers' reaction to her telling Boone - but Rasorah simply wraps an arm around the taller females shoulders, embracing her silently. They share pain, they share comfort; comforted by the older womans' embrace, Alexis asks, **"At the strip, will they have... Clothes? Pre-war clothes?" **Rasorah nods and, looking at Alexis, she notes the brightness in her eyes. **"I've never worn a dress before. Or normal shoes..." **Even from his slight distance away Boone hears the conversation and can't help but to smile. Rasorah chuckles a little, **"I wore a dress once. Pain in the ass when the wind blows." **The two women laugh a little, lapsing into giggles when Rasorah mimes a skirt being blown up by the wind. "They'll be razors," Rasorah comments, nudging Alexis with a grin, **"You'll have to have smooth legs to wear a dress. Take a look at Boone's head."** Instantly the women collapse into laughter, eyes watering when Boone turns around and glares at them.

At the Grub n' Gulp rest stop Fitz gives the group a vast amount of purified water for the rest of their journey. Of course, Alexis is allowed to pet the Brahmin much to her own delight - into the Mojave they go, finally leaving the safety of the road for a faster route to Vegas. They stick close together, rarely talking for fear a rogue deathclaw may appear. As the sun sinks behind the hills they grow dangerously tired; Alexis will often stumble, having to hold onto her helmet for dear life. ED-E was thought to be lost at one point, until he emerged from a cluster of rocks chasing a giant radscorpian. Finally, after some time of travelling through the hostile Mojave Wastes, they come to the road into the Strip's north entrance. At the gate they present their passports and, Alexis holding onto Rasorah's arm for comfort, they enter.

As they walk through, Rasorah not bothered by the securitrons to say in the least, she comments quietly, **"A city devoted to vice and sin - what's not to love?" **With a little chuckle. While Alexis drinks in this fantastical image of the Strip, Boone has been rendered silent. He stares around at the troops that are here on leave. Once, Boone was one of these soldiers. And here is where he met Carla. Carla, with her wild ways and wicked smile. Lovely ass too. Out of force of habit, as Rasorah and Alexis walk before him, he finds his gaze dropping. A little while back, he remembers Rasorah laughing as she said, **"Hey Boone, doesn't my arse look good in this armor?" **And he'd given her the stoniest look he possibly could. But he has to hand it to her - her rear does look good in that armor. After a while Rasorah turns to them, even gesturing for ED-E to come close, **"We need to ****_enjoy_**** our time here," **She says, **"Before everything fucks itself over, we need ****_some_**** good memories among the rest, right?" **The Fiend-Child nods with approval, straightening her helmet. **"As much as I'd like to stay in the grander of hotels, we need to lay low. If House knows I'm about, he'll come looking for me."  
"Gomorrah?" **Boone asks. Rasorah nods in turn to confirm, **"Gomorrah."** Oh god, she'll be able to have a _bath_. Razors, soap, gambling... Whiskey. Patting Alexis's tight hand Rasorah directs the group towards the bright, blazing sign of 'Gomorrah'.

A lone, dark figure stands outside the Lucky 38, her short form hidden in Victors' shadow. Her 'good' eye moves slowly, watching Boone, Rasorah, Alexis and the little robot go on by. They've finally arrived. The limp in her sisters' leg seems to be improving and her hair's growing - why, her fringe is back to the way it used to be. You can see the natural curl in Rasorah's hair now; Rasari leans against Victor, watching the trio laugh among themselves. Bless. Isn't Rasorah doing well for herself? She certainly fucked Benny over well and truely. Rasari moves into the light once they've passed, her long hair swaying around her face. Red, just like Rasorah's. **"Look Rasari," **Says Victor brightly, **"It's who've you've been waiting for." **A soft giggle escapes Rasari and, leaning against Victor's metal arm, she says, **"I know, metal friend of mine. But I'll have to be patient."  
**  
There are NCR troops crawling outside, eager to get in. The trio move through, ED-E easily bypassing them. Once inside - and once Rasorah has prised Alexis off of her arm - they ask for three rooms. Of course they have to hand over their weapons, but all three of them keep a weapon out of sight. They journey to the suites level and, when they come to their suites, the three just pass through, collapsing when they find their beds. For a short while they can relax, maybe have a little fun.

When Boone retires into his room he can hear Rasorah bumbling around in the room besides him - he listens to her unstrapping her armor, listens to her swear when she stubs her toe on the bed. He smiles a little when he hears ED-E bump into the wall and Rasorah grumble, **"I said turn around, not destroy the suit." **ED-E just beeps and, laughing, Rasorah obviously gets into bed. A good nights' sleep in a comfy bed, oh the luxury. Alexis is out for the count within the hour, followed by Rasorah. But, for quite some time, Boone just lays there and stares at the ceiling. There's silence from both Alexis and Rasorah, but ED-E will occasionally beep to himself. A night of tossing and turning is all that lays in wait for Boone - maybe dreams of his deceased wife, or dirty things with the Courier. Either way, he knows he shouldn't be thinking about either.


	6. Jingle Jangle, Jingle Jangle

For a vast proportion of the next day the trio do their own thing. Alexis goes hunting around for clothes for herself and Rasorah, Rasorah has multiple baths one after the other, and Boone goes down into the place to have something decent to eat. By mid-afternoon Rasorah finally pokes her head out of her apartment - after washing her hair it's thickened, falling across her face. As she looks outside she looks at the clothes folded up on the floor, accompanied by a pair of shoes. Chuckling to herself she takes the clothes inside and lays them out on the bed. Looks like Alexis didn't want to wear a dress by herself, then. For a chick raised by fiends, Alexis sure has taste - she's located some prewar casual-wear for Rasorah - a blue, button up number with three-quarter length sleeves and belted at the waist. Black shoes - not bad, not bad.

Half an hour later, ED-E alerts her to somebody coming up the hallway. Peeking out, Rasorah grins at Alexis - she's wearing a green dress, cut across the chest with straps over the shoulders with little green pumps. She's washed her hair, scrubbed every inch of dirt, blood and grime from her skin - just like Rasorah. When Alexis spots the shorter woman grinning at her she offers a sheepish smile. **"I look silly, don't I?"** She asks as she draws close to the Courier - at that exact moment Rasorah grabs her and, with a yelp, Alexis is pulled into the room. It's rare for Rasorah to be so smiley, even for somebody so childish.  
**"How come your legs aren't cut?"  
"Well Hart, I've actually shaved my legs before."** Rasorah laughs at Alexis's face, then points at the multiple nicks on her long legs, **"It's not too bad."** A deep sigh escapes Alexis; she knows she's not made for these sorts of thing. Especially dresses, and smooth legs. She should be in the Mojave wastes, high as a kite and slaughtering some innocent bystander. Just like Papa said. However, her spirits lift almost instantly as Rasorah emerges from the bathroom with a hat. A straw hat, a black ribbon tied around it with a black rim. **"Hats make me look stupid," **Rasorah says, grinning when Alexis eagerly accepts the pre-war item. **"Thankyou Courier," **Alexis squeaks, smiling broadly as she places the hat on her head gingerly - Rasorah smirks and, nudging the girl out of the door, she says, **"I'm gonna' get dressed. I can't go dancing in a towel."  
"We're going dancing?!"**  
**"We sure are, Missus Hart. Do me a favour and tell Boone? Miserable sod has wandered off somewhere - ED-E. ****_ED-E! _****Go with Hart, make sure she's not insulted by Mr. Grumpy Pants."** The little robot utters a few beeps and, zipping out of the room, he floats besides Alexis. She giggles and, straightening the hat's ribbon, she says, **"When shall we go?"**  
**"Welllll... Tell Boone to meet us down in Brimstone in around an hour. We'll have a laugh. Drink some whiskey, dance badly." **  
**"Okay, Courier." **And with that, the door is shut.

After she's shut the door, Rasorah chuckles to herself. Alexis's legs are hilarious. She's so thin - such vast, green eyes make her seem like a doll somewhat. With a quick motion of her hand Rasorah removes the towel from her form and, pulling on the underwear she found in the drawer, looks over the blue dress again. She feels stupidly bare without her armor - she even had to take of her Pipboy to bathe. Stepping forwards she pulls the dress over her head, legs dark because of the stockings she's wearing. If she's going to feel like a woman she might as well do it properly. She steps into her shoes, adjusts the belt around her waist, and turns to look at herself in the mirror.  
That's not Rasorah though, is it? She sighs a little, running a hand through her hair in an almost irritable fashion. _You're so stubborn_, she thinks idly. The dress is alien against her skin; soft in comparison to the leather, light. Her pale skin doesn't look so unhealthy. There's only one downside to this lovely dress; the scarring on her throat and wrists can be visibly seen. And since her multiple baths, Rasorah discovered that all that dirt and blood had hidden her scars from view. The scars on her back and legs are the worst, but she's hidden them well. **"Bastard legion,"**She mumbles, sitting down on the bed and sliding a cigarette in her mouth. Well. There's a first for everything. She pauses, closing her eyes - once again she's thinking, pondering. She summons the image of Boone just a night before, when he uttered her name is his husky, almost gruff voice. Instantly her eyes snap open and her skin prickles, tingles. That's peculiar. But as always, the stubborn Courier just denies her mind the luxury of fantasies.

Meanwhile, after he's eaten everything he possibly can and found some good quality tobacco to chew on, Boone is coming up to his room. He does believe it's time to assault the privilege of having fresh water - however, as he's about to enter his room, Alexis appears. Flanked by ED-E, wearing the parkstroller outfit many of the women wear here - she's also wearing a hat. If he were any other man Boone would make a comment about her being 'cute'. But Boone isn't any other guy, is he? He does, however, turn to the soldier to say, **"You scrub up well, girl. Is there an occassion?" **At this Alexis instantly smiles, rubbing her neck almost nervously.** "The Courier says we're going dancing," **She says, gesturing to her dress,** "In an hour we're going down into Brimstone. There will be whiskey, so come and have some fun." **Leaving Boone with his usual, grim expression, Alexis moves past him with ED-E. She leaves the suites and trots downstairs, disappearing into the people there. She has little time and - although Rasorah hasn't realised it yet - she must soon return to her Father, Motor Runner. Simply because she knows she no longer belongs among the troops, with the Courier, or as a scavenger.

Boone enters his room again, shaking his head at the bright nature that Alexis so easily displays. He struggles with the simplest of things, yet the jet-addicted youngster can hold herself better than he - as he passes the threshold into the room he questions himself. Is he weak? Weak for becoming this quiet, dark person who is ruled by the images of his former wife, and the deaths at Bitter Springs - next door, he can hear Rasorah move abruptly. As if she's jolted out of shock. But, knowing her too well, Boone simply slips into the bathroom.  
Warm water. _Clean_ water. It's the little things that people take for granted. He takes off his sunglasses, his beret. When he slides into the water all he's wearing is his dog-tags - he remembers when he had told Rasorah to keep her distance from him. When she'd asked him about Carla - _She talked a lot. Suited me fine - I never knew what to say. _And, despite the water, his blood runs cold. He works the dirt and the grime from his skin, the sweat of travel. But no water shall clean away his guilt, his shame. Again, Rasorah moves something next door and he turns his head, listening to her. She's singing. 'Jingle Jangle' is the name of the track. As Boone continues with his bath he listens, a little smile unfolding on his face, to the sound of the Courier singing. For a g'all who smokes and has probably screamed in the face of a bloody death many times, she doesn't sing too bad. Stepping from the water that is now murky with dirt and blood, Boone steps out to dress.

Even as he selects the same-old white shirt, dark trousers and boots, Rasorah continues to sing. He draws close to the wall, placing his ear against it. Slightly muffled but still clearer, he hears her sing: **"As I go ridin' merrily along, and they sing 'Oh, ain't you glad you're single?' And that song ain't very far from wrong~"** Boone frowns. That song. She's sang it before. **"Ooh Lillie Belle, though I may have done some foolin', this is why I never fell~"** Boone, though not the most intelligent, often used to wonder why Rasorah would sing that song as they wandered the Mojave. When he'd ask her she's just laugh and say 'I mean every word'. That's never made sense, not until Alexis told the story of Will. Boone considers the prospect of Rasorah liking him in some respects, but he shrugs that off. Then, ending her singing with the opening lyrics, Rasorah sings ever so softly, **"There'll be no weddin' bells for today..."**

Best go down into Brimstone. When Boone exits the suites he descends into Brimstone to the sound of 'Blues for You'. There are people milling about, all clad in similar things to Alexis. He's never seen Rasorah in anything but armor so he can't picture her in anything but. He can't picture her not covered in blood, or unwounded - or without dirt under her long fingernails, or a vacant look in her caramel eyes. Come to think of it... When has Rasorah ever seen him without that distant look on his face? That's a horrendous thought. When he thinks it over, Boone understands - although he doesn't want to - that the Courier has always smiled despite his terrible attitude. She's always laughed and said something stupid, or gritted her teeth when he'd be fiercely rude. _Why _is she hanging around?

These thoughts surge and push within Boone's mind. Tonight there's a vast multitude of people around - most of which are troops. His gaze sweeps the area and, finding Alexis sat besides the bar, he finds his way to her. **"Hullo," **She chirps, **"I bought you a whiskey."  
"Thanks."  
"Didn't the Courier come down with you?"  
**As Boone settles up on to a stool he shakes his head, taking a mouthful of the whiskey. Hard stuff; the warmth spreads through his chest and, shrugging, he says, **"I guess you know how she can be."**Alexis nods, agreeing, and she lifts her gaze. Rasorah is always late. Fashionably late, but still late. Small talk is created; Alexis mostly asking about what Boone did whilst in First Recon. He tells her about this and that, not much else. Alexis feeds Boone talk about small things, such as her 'rescue' from the slaughter of the fiends; she doesn't know Boone knows who her Father is, but she's wary. She knows what her Father is and, although he's nothing compared to the likes of Cook-Cook or Violet, she's still perfectly aware that she was born to savages. Unfortunately, it's in her blood...

**"Ghouls scare me," **Alexis says idly, indicating to the stripper closest to them. The woman turns and Boone catches full sight of the broken, damaged skin, the watery eyes. All Boone can do is feel sorry for them with the knowledge of their suffering. There's nothing anybody can do; the Ghouls are sterile. It's just a matter of time of waiting for them to die. How morbid. He drains his whiskey before, lowering his glass, he spots a shade of blue in the lights of Brimstone. Long legs and a form that isn't sickly like the rest - for a woman who fights with the Mojaves' spirit, she could be considered beautiful? Boone doesn't realise it's Rasorah until she begins to move through the crowd towards himself and Alexis. From besides him Alexis breathes, "She's pretty." And ED-E beeps in the shadows, probably approving. As she moves through the lights, easily moving past people due to the lack of armor, Rasorah approaches to say, **"You've got your glasses on indoors, Boone."  
"I, uh..."  
"Close your mouth, you look shocked. Oh come on, I'm sure you've seen a womans' legs before." **She laughs and, leaning over the bar to order a whiskey, she then turns her head to say, **"Could be worse. I could be wearing a red beret and a white shirt."  
"Shut up."  
**She laughs again, and Boone swears he's never seen her eyes so bright.


	7. Mad About the Boy'

The night wears on and it becomes very clear that Alexis cannot handle _any_ kind of liquor - there's a flush over her cheeks and, hat sitting at an odd angle, she laughs at something rather rude that Rasorah says. Rasorah cracks up too, laughing behind her hand when Boone looks at her awkwardly over his whiskey - she's about to make a comment about his expression when somebody from the crowd wanders over. He's a NCR soldier, dark-haired and tall. Oh _great_. One of them. He offers Rasorah his hand, saying, **"Would you like to dance, Madam?"** Rasorah looks at the hand, then up at the soldiers' face. She quirks a brow, saying, **"Why not." **And with that she takes the hand and allows herself to be taken away from her seat, in among the people. The song playing is 'Big Iron', and what do you know, Boone knows every lyric. So does Rasorah, by the looks it. The whiskey has done her work - she laughs as she dances with the soldier, stepping in time with him. The blue dress catches the red hues of Brimstone; her hair seems to flame in this light, and the scars seem to melt away. Of course, Boone is instantly jealous.

Alexis looks at him over her glass and, smiling, she says, **"She's doing that to make you jealous, Mister."**  
**"You think?"**  
**"I know."** Alexis says, watching Rasorah mouthing the words of the song as she moves this way and that. **"Listen, I'm shot. I don't see how you guys can drink this stuff... I'm gonna' go to bed, Mister Boone. Come on ED-E, let's go~" **Leaving Boone staring, rather helplessly at the situation, Alexis and ED-E wander off through the crowd. Eventually she places her hat on ED-E, his antane poking through. The pair disappear up to the suites - slowly but surely people are disappearing. Mostly soldiers with prostitutes, but that's not the point. He's unsure why his chest tightens but it does, and he just has to do something about it. So, unseating himself and moving through the stragglers, he seeks Rasorah and her dancing companion. That soldier takes one look at the red beret and scarpers - Rasorah blinks, left alone as the song changes. As she turns her head, the lights catching her flaming hair, she spots Boone approaching. **"Why hello, fancy seeing you here."** Boone scoffs and, relying on the whiskey in his system to cut aside the guilt of his next actions, he takes her left hand into his right, other hand finding her waist. She laughs much to his comfort, saying, **"You'd like to dance?"**

_I'm mad about the boy,_  
_And I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy,_  
_I'm so ashamed of it, but must admit the sleepless nights_  
_I've had about the boy._

_On the silver screen,_  
_He melts my foolish heart with every single scene,_  
_Although I'm quite aware that here and there are traces of_  
_The cad about the boy._

**"You dance like a girl."  
"Would you rather I dance like a Mutant?"**  
Rasorah giggles again, arching her eyebrow at Boone. It looks like the pair are trying, very desperately, to ignore the lyrics of this song. You don't need whiskey to kid yourself into thinking this song is very much applicable. Especially to Rasorah.  
**"I'm lying, you dance pretty well. For a soldier."  
"What's that meant to mean?"  
"It means you've only stood on my foot once and you're not staring at my chest."  
"Could be the sunglasses?"**  
Rasorah laughs heartedly, the flush across her cheeks spreading - is she drunk? She's not even sure herself, neither is Boone really. The pair have them have drunk enough, but what are they drunk on exactly? Probably their own stupidity. Like being a teenager all over again. Minus the slavery or gunshots, obviously. **"You uh, look very, uh..." **Boone struggles for a moment, saying, **"I like your dress." **Rasorah laughs. Again. As his gaze drops, probably out of embarrassment, he notes those horrendous scars on her throat. Slavery. How can she smile so widely in vain, knowing that, very soon, they must enter a battle that could tear them all into pieces? Maybe it's all an act. When she catches his silence she smiles, saying, **"I like your beret, Boone." **He smirks, watching her laugh.  
_  
Lord knows I'm not a fool-girl,  
I really shouldn't care,  
Lord know I'm not a school-girl,  
In the flurry of her first affair._

Boone pulls the Courier closer and - being careful not to stand on her feet - steps in time. By this time they're basically the only ones left. Even the strippers remaining have ceased, leaning against their poles or wandering off. Some linger, watching the pair. Boone lifts Rasorah by her waist, the skirts of her dress fanning out with the motion - she giggles and, when Boone lowers her, that smile fades away. Even through his sunglasses she looks at that peculiar look he's giving her. The very same a few nights earlier when he'd accidentally leant on her leg. A look of complete focus, yet he's so far away. Thinking, musing. His arm slides around her waist and, pulled onto her toes, Rasorah finds herself held still. Her left hand still held up in his right, the light catching her eyes - his dog-tags pressed against her chest and his face dangerously close to her own. **"You're going to kiss me, aren't you."  
"I sure am."  
"Take off your sunglasses?"  
**

_Will it ever cloy,  
This odd diversity of misery and joy,  
I'm feeling quite insane and young again,  
And all because I'm mad about the boy,  
Mad about the boy._

Mad she is indeed - Boone smiles and, releasing her left hand, he pulls off his sunglasses. But he gives no time to react. He laces his hand into her hair, the other arm still around her waist. She's smaller than he expected; light beneath his hands. Shorter, too. Boone brings the Courier closer and, his mouth meeting hers', he simply kisses her. Thankfully, Boone doesn't see her face flush almost the same colour as her hair - her arms loop around his neck and, tipping up on to her toes, she turns her head to return the kiss. For two people so lost to blood and violence, lost to sin and guilt, such an act is as tender as it gets - though Boone deepens the gesture with not a care in the world and Rasorah responds the same, two strippers have remained watching.

The female ghoul grins, nudging her human counterpart. **"Don't get that here often,"** She says, her voice gruff. The human smiles and, as Boone and Rasorah depart, she replies, **"I guess romance isn't dead."**


	8. Calloused Fingertips, Scarred Skin

As custom, Boone escorts Rasorah back through Brimstone. They're silent, almost in a state of awkwardness; the darkness of the hallway envelopes Rasorah as she walks and all Boone sees is the occasional flash of her pipboy or the flutter of the blue fabric. His chest tightens again and a deep, heavy feeling drops. It spreads low... And deep. As Boone ascends slightly behind Rasorah, sliding his sun glasses back on, he cannot help but to wonder where that came from. There was no image of Carla, no sore memory that came back to bite him. When the pair stop in the hallway of their suite Rasorah watches Boone just disappear into his room -

She frowns. Was that gesture, empty, meaningless? But alas, the Courier doesn't pursue Boone - she merely enters her own room slowly, able to hear ED-E bumping against the walls in Alexis's room. She's sleeping, thankfully. The dim light of her room Rasorah's form could only be considered enhanced by the shadows created. As she rakes a hand through her vibrant hair, stepping to lock the door, a dark shadow is cast over her eye area. Perhaps it was just all too good to be true.  
Boone pauses himself. This punishment has yet to end, yet he's drawing closer to the Courier. She's endured the fate he saved his Carla from; what is there that life could throw at him? The First Recon soldier straightens sharply, frowning himself. The tension overwhelms him.

Rasorah lifts her leg up onto the side of the bed, blue skirts falling to expose the length of her leg. Scarred and the wound bandaged, she gently passes a hand over her pale skin. She's leaning to slide off her shoe when her door bursts open, exposing the soldier. He stands there, motionless for the moment, his hand on the handle and beret slightly misplaced. Rasorah's head turns slowly and her dark eyes catch the light. Those eyes are the shade of the Mojave; dark, beautiful. You know you shouldn't venture near, but you simply cannot help yourself. **"Boone?"** The Courier utters, her voice catching in her throat. Thick, heavy, cut short when Boone closes the door with one solid movement of his hand. He approaches her with the stride she's so accustomed to; silent he draws close in a matter of moments and, finding her back against the wall, Rasorah lifts her head to look him in the eye. His hands rest either her head and his head bowed close to her own. With gentle hands the Courier removes his glasses and, tentatively, pulls off his beret. Human. Craig Boone is human. She sees him for what he is - not the First Recon sniper, nor the murderer the Khans claim him to be. Just another human being, lost to the torments of the Mojave. Her hand snakes downwards, drifting across his neck, to his chest. Where his heart beats with the same rapid anticipation as her own. Her blood is on fire, her face flushed - the Courier and the Sniper exchange that long look before, breathless, the tension is broken. **"****_Rasorah_****."**

Boone's kiss is greedy. The Courier is pressed up against the wall, lips captured by Boones', and one of his hands tangling itself into her hair - he pulls her from the wall in a brisk movement and, within the same motion, his hand dips for the belt of her dress. By this moment the Courier is lost to the raw prospect of what could happen. The pair of them know this isn't good for either of them but, as Boone thought earlier, the world is so close to crashing and burning all over again. The least he can do is show the Courier something other than pain and mistreatment. Her hands are on his neck, then tracing the curve of muscle in his arms - Carla's hands were soft. But Rasorah's are probably just as calloused as his; Carla used to bite her nails something terrible, but Rasorah's catch his flesh every now and again. And it's about to drive him crazy.

Seizing the hem of his white shirt he pulls it up and over his head, tosses it aside, and is set upon by the Courier. There is a semi-drunken tumble of limbs and, collapsing against the bed, Boone finds himself over Rasorah. But there is no pause, no hesitation; the Courier utters a sharp intake of breath as he leaves a trail of kisses against her neck - her right hand lifts and, sharp nails gripping his shoulder, she breathes his name in a stupour of her anticipation. All he does is utter a feral noise in reply and, hands taking her dress by the hem, Rasorah is exposed. She just slowly props herself up onto her shoulders as Boone leans up onto his knees, looking down at the supple curves of the Courier. His eyes catch the hideous scarring, the number branded into her flesh, the way her dark eyes flash. Stockings? Why not. Unwilling to let Rasorah think, at all, of his wandering gaze Boone stoops to run his hands along her long legs and, coming to her knees, parts them slowly.  
**  
"Boone," **She utters, rearing up slightly, **"You don't ha -" **A hand that nurses the bloom of her breast silences the Courier, voice stolen away by another heart-stopping kiss. In that instant he pushes his leg between her own, able to feel the heat. Her legs tense, shivering at the slight brush of his knee against such sensitive regions - his thumb flicks and she gasps, body arching beneath him. She's hot, delightful under his calloused hands - Mojave walker, the thorny wildflower with eyes wilder than the Deathclaw. Boone's heart thunders in his chest and he tugs off his belt with a severely rough motion, unable to contain himself. As he's struggling with undoing his trousers he feels the Couriers' lips brush his lower abdomen, her sharp nails on the flesh of his legs. But her taunt is abolished when Boone pushes forwards and, his hands taking her by the hips, he just utters,** "Relax." **And, with that, he rolls his hips and enters her - Rasorah utters the slighest of sounds and it echoes, suddenly, throughout the suite. Boone moves over her, hand in her hair and the other over her mouth, he says between panting breaths, **"Don't wake Hart~"  
**  
The sweat clings to their skin; her nails rake against his back, gripping when he catches her sharply. Boone buries his face into the curve between her neck and shoulder, releasing her mouth to grip her by the hip. Her legs wrap around his waist and, biting against her lower lip, Rasorah subdues any cry or whimper - the motions repeated over and over and, moving over her entirely by this stage, Boone bites into the Courier's shoulder to suppress the urge to groan. When their eyes meet Rasorah will catch a glimpse of that devious smirk that makes her knees go weak - his rhythm is enough to drive her over the edge. Feeling Rasorah's body quake and shiver beneath his own, Boone rolls his hips forwards with enough of a force that Rasorah lets out a slight cry, her hands clutching against his shoulders as he releases with a violent shudder. Their forms relax, muscles untensing and racing hearts slowly calming. And for that moment the pair just attempt to catch their breath. Rasorah allows her head to rest back against the bed, red hair splaying against the sheets. Boone rests his head against her collar-bone, panting for breath and drawing himself up besides her. A hand rests on her stomach, where scars travel this way and that - he brings Rasorah closer, her head resting against his chest, one of her legs looped around his own. Silence. There isn't a need for words but, presently, both must deal with this guilty pleasure.

They do not know what shall happen tomorrow.  
But it's already too late.


	9. Betray Me

Boone awakes to the sounds of early morning in Brimstone; people bustling out of their suites to ruin their lives in the Casino, people leaving rooms after a night with a paid whore. Rolling over slowly he groggily gropes the sheet for the warmth he thought he'd find - but there is no flesh beneath his hand, no red hair. His eyes snap open. She's gone - the blue dress hung against the dresser, a ghost of a night that seems to be draining away quicker than Boone would like. Her armor's gone. _Shit_. **"Courier," **He calls as he sits up, seeking his clothes and dragging them on. She's bathed? There's still steam in the bathroom. He's just moments too late, maybe?

He bursts out of Rasorah's room, straightening his beret and buckling his belt - Alexis's door is open, but she's nowhere to be found. When he ventures inside he finds a note, written in her terrible handwriting: _I have to go home. _  
So much is happening in such a short space of time. Alexis's NCR uniform has been laid out on the bed and her pack's contents strewn everywhere; Boone gags at the smell. He knows that smell well, and that's the smell of decomposing flesh. That's the smell of a fiend - the scrawny soldier has disappeared, leaving her faction armor and the park-stroller dress. Boone dreads to think what she's about to return to, what's she's going to let herself become. Hearing a commotion coming from the bathroom Boone instinctively opens the door, watching ED-E whizz out as fast as he possibly can. He begins to beep in a frenzied fashion, his form spinning every now and again. Right, the robot's freaking out, something isn't right.

Outside of new Vegas Alexis looks back, her black hair swaying back from her face. She's had enough Jet to keep her system stable, her heart regulated and her head clear - those that spot her just turn their heads away from the tall girl clad in Sadist Raider armor. The severed hands on her hip aren't as fresh as they used to be and, turning away from Vegas away, the Fiend-Child begins to head back home. Back to Vault Three.

The First Recon sniper has calmed himself and, after searching most of Brimstone, he opts to travel the strip in hopes of finding the Courier. She's not going to run from him again, if that's what she thinks. He exits Gomorrah with a dark, irritable expression, flanked by the floating ED-E. Through the strippers, the troops and the tourists... There is no flash of red hair and dark armor. Unsettled severely Boone begins to walk - he passes the Lucky 38 and, turning slowly, narrows his eyes. Victor, the large Securitron, says brightly, **"Howdy Partner! Can I help you?"  
**Before Boone can speak a darkly clad figure emerges from the darkness behind the large securitron, tilting her head when Boone's eyes narrow. She's smiling. This girl could be just a little shorter than Rasorah, though her skin is a slightly darker shade and her eyes a brighter shade of caramel. Well, one is. The other is a faded, milky colour, obviously blind. **"Hello, Craig." **She knows his name. Boone's entire body prickles and, dread clawing at his gut, he gruffs, **"Where's the Courier?"  
"Rasorah? Ohhh... She's inside. Taking care of some business I couldn't do myself."**  
Killing House? How does this girl know? Slowly, the girl begins to descend towards Boone and ED-E. She's wearing a black garment buttoned up to her throat, long sleeves past her wrists and ending at her thighs. Holey fishnets and dark, knee-high boots. She could be Rasorah's sister, but... She should be dead.  
This girl stands before Boone on the steps of the Lucky 38, the morning breeze tossing her long, red hair. Hair past her hips, but a fringe just like Rasorah's. When Boone frowns and asks who she is, she merely grins. **"I am Rasari Martyr."**

Meanwhile, Rasorah has since entered the Lucky 38 - she's entered the Penthouse, navigates past the eeriely still Secuitrons down to the Terminal guarded by a rather imposing one of the robots. Quickly, she begins to hack, the green numerals and text flash before her eyes. Two errors and, taking a breath, she tries once more. She's in. _Welcome, . _The Courier opens the chamber and, as the alarms begin to sound behind her, she takes a pulse grenade from her side. She bolts, tossing it behind her as she heads for the second terminal - think woman, think. More hacking ensues and, entering the password, she unlocks the elevator. She narrowly avoids being pelted by bullets but, entering the peculiar space, she finds herself free from attack.

She's presented with a long, dark area, where the distant sound of the alarm echoes terribly. Slowly, unsure, she treads towards what looks like a capsule. A desk? She activates the terminal, noting the words 'infection risk'. Before her the peculiar chamber shivers, letting out jets of steam as it opens, light flaring from the peculiar contraption. Rasorah takes a step back, expression bemused, before a panel is pushed up and out of the chamber. Mr. House is nothing but a shrivelled, old creature with a voice that rattles within his throat. Milky eyes stare at Rasorah and, his yellowed flesh almost twitching with the effort to speak, he rasps, "Why have you... done this? ... Centuries of preparation... So much good, undone..." The Courier steps forwards. There is no comforting somebody so drunk on their power, so desperately shrivelled - she clears her throat and says, **"It's just business."  
"If personal gain... What you sought... Should've done... As asked..."**  
Rasorah shivers at the sound of his weak voice, proposing, **"I'll... I'll let you live? You just won't be able to control any of this, Mr. House?"  
"No! Don't disable... Cerebral... I'd rather be... Killed... Just kill... Me..."** His voice dies in a rasp, his tired eyes slowly turning to rest upon the Courier. His body shivers and quakes with the effort of life, hooked to machines. The Courier simply turns away, pulling the pistol from her side. She turns and, aiming between his eyes, she says, **"I'm sorry, Mr. House." **But as she primes the weapon the shrivelled man says, **"Rasari... Will carry this... On."**  
Rasorah's eyes widen, but her body is already in the motion. Her trigger finger squeezes and, body taking the recoil, blood bursts over the back of the panel House rests upon. His head sags to the side, yellowed skin stretching with the effort. _Rasari?! _Her heart is hammering with something like fear. She's dead. Died in the desert, right?  
_Securitron tracks._  
Rasari is dead.**  
**_Securitron tracks in the Mojave sand._

Some see the Courier burst out of the Lucky 38, pale-faced and obviously in a state of panic. Victor seems to have disappeared and, bolting down the Strip, the Courier goes to check the rooms. Alexis is gone. Boone is gone. She finds Alexis's note, spots her deserted clothes.  
Boone's room is empty, but his things are gone - even ED-E isn't here. Did Boone leave with Alexis? She doubts it, unless he has some form of hidden motive where Motor Runner is concerned. But... He wouldn't just leave her, right?

Fucking robots. His body shivering with slight pain as he wakes up, Boone lifts his head and looks around. Sure is a fancy room for the strip - the sun's going down, judging by how gloomy the space is. The only light is from the flickering screen of Victor who, much unlike himself, is deathly silent. Boone attempts to move. He's sat down, probably on a chair, but he cannot move. Legs bound to the chair legs, arms bound behind his back - the rope binding his wrists and legs is rough and, fighting the binds, the First Recon finds himself rendered useless. Weaponless, too. He can see his rifle propped up against the wall, almost teasing him. He's about to lose his temper when the door opens - his head turns sharply and, frowning, he watches Rasari come gliding through the door. She flashes him that smile again. That horrible, twisted expression that makes his gut twist with dread. **"Where am I?"  
"Why, this is the Lucky 38. Finest place in all the strip, Mister Boone." **She laughs. Sound crackling in her throat - she draws closer to him, placing a booted foot on his knee. **"How was fucking my sister, soldier? Doesn't she look pretty in a blue dress -" **Her hand snaps forwards, seizing Boone by his jaw, **"Unfortunately for you, you've tangled with the wrong story this time."  
"She thinks you're dead."  
"I know..."** Rasari purrs gently, **"That's the point. She left me to die, you see. She let -"  
"She didn't know, she -"  
"Ohhh, so you've been told our little story? I bet she didn't tell you that she used to pick of soldiers travelling over the ridge? I bet she didn't tell you that she gutted a child 'cause she was in a foul temper -"  
"The Courier carried your weight in the Legion, ungrateful little -"  
"The Courier is a damned woman, soldier. Every breath she takes belongs to ****_me_**** - every place she goes, I know. Right now? She's in a state, looking for the man she's smitten with..."** A dark grin slowly move over her face and, moving her mouth besides Boone's ear, she utters, **"And that happens to be you."**

Boone screams when the blade pierces his skin.  
Swears when her knuckles strike his cheekbone.  
Falls silent when she laughs.

By the time Rasorah comes into the Lucky 38 the sun has set. The screens have since shut off and, place held in darkness, she's completely alone. Clutching her gun tightly, frowning as she steps in**. "Boone?"** She calls, before opting to travel around the Lucky 38.  
But Rasari finds her first. As she enters the presidential suite, lowering her weapon with a sigh, somebody slides up behind her. A cloth is pressed to her face and, just before she blacks out, Rasorah hears her sister laugh.

Boone's eyes snap open when he hears Rasorah scream. She's on the same floor as him for sure - he hears her scream again, followed by Rasari's laughter. _Fuck_. Rasari was right. She would come looking for him. How long have they been there? He's unsure if it's days or hours. Every now and again he'll awake from the induced comatose that Rasari can drive him under - she'll make him writhe, scream and bleed, probably just for Rasorah's own torment. At one point Boone thinks he can smell burning flesh and, fighting his restraints, he listens to Rasorah screaming for him.  
_Fuck_. Punishments never end, soldier. And you know that. He knew something like this would happen and, gritting his teeth against the burning of his skin, begins to fight against the rope. Though his wounds seep and ache, his body desperate to give up, Boone gathers the energy to do _something._

Rasari's booted foot is brought down fiercely, hitting the Courier's bruised cheekbone. Blood splatters from her bleeding mouth and, without protest, Rasorah falls limp again. In the room her hands have been tied by the wrists, pulled up in the crucifix gesture and tied to the walls opposite her hands. She's since sank to her knees, straining her wrists and shoulder joints. Her lip is split, jaw battered and face bruised - a knife thrust into her thigh, blood dripping from her parted mouth and pooling on the floor before her. Slowly her eyes raise, watching her sister select whatever weapon she desires. **"You know, Rasorah," **She chimes, turning around with a wild grin,** "You did me a great favour. I could almost forgive you, but there's no fun in that, is there? You see this strip? It's mine. Everything. You think some soldiers are going to win? You got rid of House - I couldn't do that... I'm not as ****_heartless_**** as you."  
**Rasorah's eyes just roll, her bloodied mouth attempting form form words. But Rasari merely strikes her around the face again. More blood pools against the floor and, eyes blank, Rasorah falls limp. **"You were always pathetic, Rasorah. Mamma and Papa may have favoured you, but I know what you are. You were always better, weren't you? Rasorah could write, Rasorah could sing. You could do everything I couldn't back then and, when Victor rescued me from death? I realised. I'm better than you, Rasorah, because I remember. I remember Mother, Father ... Our friends, the Vault. I remember what Taylor did, what our Brothers did for us. You drink away the memories that ****_make _****you!"  
"Rari." **  
Her nickname. Rasari straightens slowly, watching Rasorah wobble to her feet. She looks down into her sisters' good eye, blood oozing past her mouth and legs threatening to give out. **"You forgot something."  
"Don't bluff with me, Rasorah. You're going to die here, and I'm going to build my Vegas on your blood -"  
"You forgot about ED-E."**

The robot has drifted around the Lucky 38 for a while, looking for Boone or Rasorah. Maybe Alexis. When he finds Boone in a room, accompanied by a rather large securitron, the little bot simply begins to attack. Rasari hears the commotion and, entering the room by bursting through the door, she yells, **"Victor, attack that robot!"  
**But the large securitron's screen just flickers and he says in that bright tone, **"I'm sorry, no-can-do Partner!"  
"Victor -"**  
ED-E's ray catches the ropes that bind Boone. Within that instant he's wrenched himself free of that chair, turning to face Rasari with his bloodied form. A snarl - Rasari produces the gun from her hip, aiming, **"Trouble maker." **  
She would shoot, but Rasari isn't fast enough. Boone watches as Rasorah's form comes in from the door, tackling the smaller female. She wraps an arm around Rasari's waist, lifts her in one easy motion, and simply drags her out of the room. The sheer force that Rasorah uses surprises both Rasari and Boone. There is a fevered struggle until Rasorah swings the smaller female against the floor; there is a sickening crack as her head connects with the floor, blood escaping split skin. Rasari falls limp and, looking up, Rasorah looks straight at Boone. They exchange no words; she loops her arm beneath his own, supporting his weight - he's more damaged than she and, with great difficulty, they navigate to the elevator.

They come to the Casino and, followed by ED-E, pause momentarily to catch their breath. Boone holds on to his rifle for dear life, his sunglasses splattered with blood and his breathing ragged - though he's supported by the smaller woman who's in worst condition. They limb, wrists burning and bleeding, towards the exit. **"I'm sorry," **Rasorah utters as they stagger down the illuminated steps of the Lucky 38, but Boone just tells her to save her energy. Though their pace is laboured and bodies extremely pained, they move out of the Strip, into Freeside. **"Mormon Fort?"**Boone enquires dully, feeling his weight shift. Besides him Rasorah utters a soft noise in her throat, agreeing, and they move on.

**"You two have been in the wars,"** Julie says, eyeing Boone and Rasorah with a critical eye. Boone, who is now supporting an extremely dozey Rasorah, just grunts, **"Some assistance would be nice." **The doctor merely shoots Boone a curious look, notes the beret and just nods.  
Rasorah and Boone are taken to different tents - ED-E obviously floats outside. It's as if he cannot decide who he'd rather stay with. He's a strange specimen among a bleak environment; canvas tents and people who glance at him curiously. It doesn't take Julie Farkas very long to patch up Boone - his injuries were shallow, obviously not intended for serious harm. Just the pain factor. **"Right. That stimpack should refresh you a little. Don't be moving, alright?"**She looks at Boone carefully, watching him cleaning his glasses of blood. He doesn't respond but the Doctor gathers he must have the message.

Patching up Rasorah isn't going to be an easy task. When the Doctor unstraps what she can of Rasorah's armor to keep her modest, the sight terrifies her. The woman has been beaten, is severely dehydrated, possibly has broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder... The list goes on. Farkas does what she can - resetting her awkward shoulder, making the woman drink until her body rejects the water. Rasorah is stitched up, bandaged and left to rest. Her mind comes and goes; she could be considered somewhat unaware, oblivious to what's going on around her. The days are passing and, as her condition deteriorates, Farkas approaches Boone with the matter.  
He's in his tent on the edge of the makeshift bed, his eyes cast downwards and hands loosely laced on his knees - when Boone spots the Doctor he looks up sharply. A good indication his condition has improved. **"The Courier is in a bad way,"** Farkas says, frowning a little,** "I've managed to close her wounds, but I think she's in a state of shock - no matter what I do, I can't bring her around."  
**Boone's heart almost drops. But the Courier wouldn't give up that easily.

When night falls on the fourth day, Boone goes to check on Rasorah - obviously when Farkas is unaware. He sneaks into the tent, closing the flap behind him. When he turns around the sight of the Courier somewhat distresses him; Rasorah's skin has drained of colour to an awful degree, her wounds bandaged but so very frequent on her form. As he approaches he gently passes his hand through her vibrant hair, noting how her face is utterly still. There has to be _something_ he can do. Pausing he thinks, watching the irregular pattern of Rasorah's breathing. The only thing he can thing of is Slasher. A drug that combines the effects of Med-X and physco. Though this solution is impractical, it's all he can think of. And he has just the idea - _Alexis_.

In the dead of the night Boone slips away, leaving ED-E with strict instructions to keep everybody away from Rasorah, Craig Boone presses on to find Vault Three. The home of Motor Runner - he's hoping to catch Alexis _before _she gets to the Vault. Of course, this means he has to force himself to run. For short times Boone moves across the Mojave at a fast pace, teeth gritted and head pounding with blood. This is his punishment, not her's. And he'll be damned if he lets her die by the hands of her sick _fuck _of a sister.

Meanwhile, travelling down the cracked tarmac in her raiders armor, is Alexis. She's walking at her own pace - of course, there's no hurry, but the military training she was subjected to has made her far faster, far more efficient. Of course, Alexis dwindles. It took her two days to get away from the Strip alone, and she took a little detour to the Thorn. Rekindling the fire in her blood wasn't difficult. As she travels alone, cautious, she's about to stop and hunt for a drink when a figure comes jogging up the tarmac behind her. Alexis turns around sharply, taken aback when she spots Boone. He staggers a little, saying, **"Hart, the Couriers' in trouble."** He's got her attention. She ignores the horrendous look he grants her with when he sees what she's wearing, but Alexis replies with, **"Trouble?"  
"Rasari decided to come back from the grave she belongs in. The Courier's not responding to any treatments."  
"You want Slasher, don't you?"**  
Boone cringes a little at the dull tone in Alexis's voice. He meets her gaze through his sunglasses, the sunrise glowing around her frame - he just nods and, gesturing for him to follow, Alexis begins to lead. As they travel in silence, Boone clutching his side, she eventually says,** "I'm not deserting you two, I promise. But... I don't belong in the military, Mr. Boone. But the Fiends don't belong with Motor Runner."** Catching his bemused expression she gestures to the decline into Vault Three before them, saying, **"The Courier killed Cook-Cook, Violet... But Papa is organised. Too organised. The Fiends don't need to be controlled, Mr. Boone, they need to be shown a different way of life."  
"What do you suppose we do?"  
**As the entrance to Vault Three opens Alexis smiles a little, her green eyes flickering, **"We kill Papa."**

They enter Vault Three and, when the female fiend raises a weapon at the sight of Boone, Alexis moves forwards. The woman exclaims, **"Alexis!" **And, after clarifying it really _is _Alexis, she allows the pair through. As they journey into the Vault - many Fiends stopping, staring with wide eyes at the sight fo Alexis - the Fiend-Child says, **"You have Med-X, right?"  
"Yeah."  
**Alexis cuts their conversation short when a younger fiend, sporting the same dark hair and eyes as Alexis, comes bounding up to her. She squeals and embraces her sister, clutching her tightly.** "I knew you'd come back, I knew they wouldn't keep you forever!" **Alexis just smiles nervously and continues on. More of her siblings emerge from the rooms and passages, most of them male. They question Boone with snarling faces, their eyes wild with a combination of chem abuse and rage. Alexis explains saying, **"He decided to bring me home, because I asked him. I, uh, owe this soldier my life."  
**Boone just agrees, for the sake of keeping his head.

The maintenance wing is close; Alexis stops Boone and, looking at him squarely, she says, **"When the NCR spared me years ago, Mr. Boone, my family believed I was kidnapped. Just go with what I say, okay?"  
"'Kay."** Boone, though uneasy, agrees in a dull fashion. He wants to kill this bastard of a Fiend. For what he did to his friends, people in general. For the people who had lived in this Vault. They enter and, sat in the middle of the room on a throne, is Motor Runner. Boone feels his heart almost stop. Two dogs, their flesh scolded and pelts ragged, flank the Fiend. He lifts his head and, tilting his head, he stares at Alexis as she walks through the door. **"Papa!"  
"Alexis -" **The Fiend stands and, opening his arms, allows his daughters' embrace with a content expression. However he looks up, over her shoulder, and stares at Boone with the same hate that he receives.** "Who's this?" **He grunts, releasing his eldest daughter so that she may stand besides him. Alexis gestures to Boone, of whom currently has an expression that clearly displays his desire to kill somebody, before saying, **"Papa. This soldier saved me - they NCR said I couldn't leave, but he listened to me Papa. He said he'd bring me home, and he has. He promised, Papa~"**Alexis smiles widely as Motor Runner slowly approaches Boone, his eyes narrowed a little. He doesn't see Alexis draw the iron pipe from her side - the two dogs don't so much as make a sound and, as her Father turns to speak to her, Alexis swings the pipe.

The force of the blow knocks off his helmet, the skull shattering as it hits the wall. **"The fuck, Alexis?!" **He yells, staggering. But the scrawny girl just plants one foot forwards, swings the pipe again and catches Motor Runner beneath the jaw. There is a crunch as he pinwheels, crashing to the floor. To Boone's greatest surprise Motor Runner doesn't so much as make a sound. He rolls onto his back, his watery eyes looking up his eldest daughter. **"It's time, huh?" **He asks, voice eerily calm. Alexis takes a step forwards, looking down at him with an expression that hints at disgust. **"This is for Mama. And for what you did to her. This is for the Courier, who saved me when you couldn't. This is for the Fiends, Papa. You mutilated our people, Papa." **She raises the pipe above her head - Motor Runner closes his eyes, turning his face away. For he knows what she's about to say. **"There are sinners, then** **there are people like you. People like you... Get punished. And that will never end until you die by the hand of somebody you love...  
Goodnight, Papa."**

Boone takes a few, slow steps back. His eyes widen when Alexis brings the pipe down with a brutal force, blood exploding from her Fathers' head. She doesn't stop - Boone watches in something short of awe, at the Fiend-Child reduce her Father's head to a gruesome pool of skull fragments and blood. Slowly, exhaling, the Fiend-Child turns to look at Boone. His gut twists, sickened, when she smiles at him. **"Okay, about that psycho?"  
**After Alexis has presented him with what he needs Boone is very quick to leave - at the entrance to the Vault Alexis approaches him, saying, **"I'll be seeing you soon, Mr. Boone. At the second Battle on the Hoover Dam - I promise. Hunt for the kill."** She smiles and, almost laughing at his shocked expression, they seal the Vault.  
As Boone ascends from the Vault, a little wiser than he was before, he mutters, **"And to kill for the hunt, kid."**

Inside, Alexis gathers the Fiends from the entire Vault before her, flanked by the two dogs and her siblings. The Fiends settle, most still glad to see her. When the excitement has died down she sets her Fathers' chainsaw down upon the floor and begins to speak. **"My family. My Papa is dead." **An uproar is close but Alexis holds up a hand, saying, **"Papa was no good for us. We need freedom! We need to be able to walk the Mojave sands like the Courier, untouched. We are what we are, and there's no changing us - the man who brought me here is a soldier. We need to help them, friends. There's a battle coming and I can promise you blood! I can promise you the Mojave sands! Are you with me?"**  
There is a roar of approval that echoes through the Vaults and, on their feet, the Fiends begin to chant. **"For the Courier!"**


	10. For the Courier

Feeling a little better for himself, Boone returns to Rasorah with the Slasher. Farkas didn't see him so much as leave - the little robot greets Boone with a series of loud beeps before moving aside, allowing him into the tent. She hasn't moved, not really. Boone slowly draws towards her with the drug, safe in the knowledge that Alexis's Fiends will be there to support them. He injects Rasorah with the combination and, sitting in the chair besides her, he is soon claimed by sleep. In his dreams there is no Carla today. Just the images of Alexis shattering her Fathers skull, saying, _"People like you are punished."_Is his punishment over? As stated before, he saved Carla from the fate Rasorah endured. Yet, Rasorah is still here. Rasorah Martyr is her full name, but Boone supposes that she probably forgot that.

The hours have past and, suddenly, the Slasher effect takes hold of her. Her whole body shakes and trembles, heartbeat beginning to increase. In the hours Boone sleeps her wounds respond well, beginning to heal at an incredible rate. Yet, she still hasn't woken up. Boone stirs in the early hours the next morning, ED-E disturbing him with a series of loud and considerably obnoxious beeps. **"What, you piece of..." **Boone sits up with a groan, rubbing his side. When he opens his eyes he finds himself confronted with the almost smirk on Rasorah's face and a hand on his own. **"Good morning," **Says the Courier, a crooked grin blooming over her face. **"Look what the cat dragged in." **He replies smoothly, standing up as Rasorah swings her legs off of the bed. The chem in her system is doing its job; though a little uneasy on her feet, Rasorah easily gets into her armor again, strapping on the leather and metal quickly. When she turns around she looks at Boone, recalling the events that have passed so quickly. Before Farkas comes to lecture them she draws close to him, placing a hand against his jaw line. **"Thankyou, Boone,"** She says quietly, frowning a little, **"I'm sorry. My sister -"**  
**"It's alright,"** He says, **"We just need to get through this."  
"War." **Rasorah states, as her hand withdraws - she looks to ED-E, whom beeps in accordance. Agreeing, obviously. The little robot whizzes in circle and, smiling a little, Rasorah exits the tents. Flanked by Boone and her salvaged Robot, the Courier decides it's time to face her judgement.

Boone's not the only one with his punishment waiting.

Together, Boone, the Courier and ED-E go to Ranger Grant for the preparations - as always with the military, they have to wait for the speech to begin. However, as they had approached the Ranger, he'd said - mostly to Boone - where a Sniper would be shooting from. Obviously, there is going to be some _issues_. With these locations in mind, the trio conducted some research. After discovering an unauthorized access to a terminal and whatnot, it was determined that somebody _was _out to ruin the speech. Spill some blood, too.

There are three attempted assassinations. Difussing the bomb on the vertibird is Rasorah's work - meanwhile, Boone sat at a higher level, searching for the potential sniper. The clever assassin, clad as a soldier, moves restlessly among the crowds. Boone smirks, noticing he doesn't clap. The guard from the tower is thrown to the floor and, aligning himself, Boone looks through his scope. A breath; his heart slows, a skill that snipers must perfect early in their career, and Boone easily dispatches the opposing sniper. All seems to going perfectly well when, as President Kimball goes through his speech, the engineer attempts to attack. Rasorah simply crouches and, with a swift flick of her wrist, the knife is sent into the back of his head. After the speech is over Kimball departs in the vertibird - they're one step closer to the final battle.

It's better to get it over and done with. Boone and Rasorah share quiet moments where, although they know what is coming, they simply share the comfort of silence. Out in the Wastes the Fiends are coming - marching along the tarmac roads, lead by Alexis Heart. The Fiend-Child. The Fiends laugh and chide as they go, often singing in loud, brash voices. But it's always of the Courier. And as they approach, Boone, Rasorah and ED-E enter General Lee Olivers' office. They enter with their armor completely renewed, ED-E's plating fixed and a generally sharp edge about them - Rasorah clears her throat and, looking up, the General says, **"Well you took your sweet ass time coming here."** A dull smile unfolds on Rasorah's face, but she chooses not to comment. The General nods and, lifting the peak of his hat slightly, he begins, **"Let's get down to brass tacks, we need to get this thing moving if we want to keep the element of surprise."**  
The Courier arches an eyebrow and, shifting her weight from foot to foot, she simply says, **"What?"  
"You've done some great work for us up to this point, and we are hoping to use your unique abilities to aid us once again. thanks to the tasks my subordinates have delegated to you, the NCR now has a unique opportunity." **General Oliver replies, just for Rasorah to say in her usual, cheeky tone, **"Aaaand that opportunity is?"  
"We have a chance to take the fight to those bastards on their home turf. I'm in the beginning stages of planning out an assault on The Fort. I've made calls to our allies, and they are on their way to our position. Once our forces are placed and garrisoned here, we'll begin our assault."  
**At this prospect Boone's eyes light up and, containing a smirk, he unfolds his arms and begins to listen - Rasorah turns to him, a hand on her hip. They share that very same expression, the same metallic flash over their eyes. ED-E just beeps. She draws close to him, probably to say something inappropriate, before a man approaches the general in a hasty fashion. **"Sir!" **He exclaims, breathless, **"I don't know what happened; a bunch of Legionnaires just stormed the power station."  
"Into the power station? How is that possible?"  
"I don't know Sir. There was some talk of them entering through the clogged intake tunnels, but I don't have any confirmation. On my way up here there was some chatter about their commander, the Legate I think he's called, set up at **some kind of base** on the Eastern bank."  
**Slowly, massaging his temples, the General turns to the Courier again. He gestures her closer and, obviously distressed, he says, **"Okay, listen here. Unless we can get some additional support, I'm going to need you help me resolve this situation. You need to make your way to this camp they have on the Eastern bank and take out the Legate. That should hamstring this attack."  
"I'm in." **_Legion Blood..._  
**"Thanks for your support. I'll make sure the NCR emergency radio is up and running. Go kill those bastards." **  
Rasorah gives a brisk nod and, turning around, she grins, **"With pleasure."**

The trio set off. Boone with his custom rifle, Rasorah strapping her power fist to her hand and strapping her rifle to her back, accompanied by ED-E. Who is too casual for that sort of thing. They make their way through the power plant rooms and, ready for the taste of blood, are stopped in their tracks. A man called Mike Lawson comes running up to them, his glasses misted with his stress and forehead shiny with beads of sweet. **"Good gracious!" **He exclaims, **"The Legion** is using the intake tunnels to storm their way into the dam. Somebody has to stop them." Planting her foot down against the floor Rasorah skids, pain flaring in her muscle. Her gaze raises, dark and irritable, **"What shall we do?"  
"Hmm. I think that you should be able to divert the flower of the water into the generator turbines. That would grind them up like hamburger. The computer to activate it is just ahead, but you may need to go outside to activate the manual override. That system hasn't been used in a while."  
"Got it."  
"Good luck. I'm going to find a place to not get shot." **This Mike Lawson guy runs off, hands over his head and orange boiler suit swallowed by darnkess. The Courier begins to backtrack, and Boone yells after her. **"I'll be fine!" **She yells, **"Just cover me!" **

The Courier moves quickly, taking the East-wall exit out onto the dam exterior. She travels swiftly, ignoring the seering pain in her leg, she finds the release valve along the left-hand side of the river, between the broken retainer wall. The turbines engage and, bolting back the way she had came, Rasorah finds Boone. Along with some dispatched Legion troops. Silently the trio return to their journey through the Power Plants - Boone travels behind Rasorah, picking off the Legion members as they come close. The hot beams shot from ED-E reduce them to flames, and the sound of a power fist betrays Rasorah's location. They enter the Hoover Dam.

NCR Veteran Rangers greet them. Before the trio is a walkway lined with sandbags, the sky the very same as the Mojave. Bullets whistle through the air, so dangerously close. Opting for the rangers to follow, the journey commences. They run - navigating where they can, slamming down behind the sandbags to reload, relying on ED-E to keep their cover. On the third time the pair do this, Rasorah reaches out and grips Boone's hand. **"Promise me something?"** He looks up, catching the desperate look in her dark eyes. A silent nod and, as she reloads, Rasorah utters, **"Don't forget me." **Boone stares at her through his sunglasses, almost unbelieving of what he just heard. And with that, Rasorah charges off again. Don't forget her? Why? His gut coils. This is Bitter Springs again - the dread claws at his gut and, yelling for her, the First Recon sniper dives out from behind the sandbags. As Rasorah charges into the heat of things, crouching to pick off the Legion from a distance, a Great Khan looms over her. She looks up, eyes wide, before he says, **"Greetings, Courier. We caught word the battle was about to begin. We arrived, with the Fiends, before the road was closed off; our warriors are here to assist you."**  
And with that, he moves off. However, Rasorah's moment of sheer happiness vanishes; the Fiends? Does that mean? There's no time to speculate, Courier! Move! Carnage ensues but, bodies scattered behind them, they make it to the gates of the Legate's Camp. It's strange - all those people that agreed to help... They did. Rasorah didn't believe them. The Brotherhood aided them down in Power Plant Zero-Four, and Cannibal Jackson has come to aid them. The group moves on.

The scene before them is one of a quiet unawareness; Boone takes care of the couple of Prime Legionaries at the entrance, their heads rolling. A quiet nod to one another and, descending the cracked earth towards the camp, they prepare. Also silent, ED-E bobs behind them, as if waiting. They come to the camp, the skies dark - clouds overwhelm the skies, a dark canopy to suit the situation. Carnage - flashes of red and metal. The soldiers clash with them and, bullets firing into the night, the second battle for Hoover Dam begins completely. Boone settles himself up on a ridge, picking off the soldiers in quick succession. A bullet through the temple, the throat, the chest; they fall in rapid numbers, blood staining their own territory. A small smirk blooms over his face, until he spots a huge personalle engaging in combat with a short, red-headed female. She's not a soldier, but something like it.

The Legate swings his great blade, narrowly avoiding Rasorah's form. She takes a step back, pain bursting up through her leg. Her eyes widen and, in the dim glow of the wastelands moon, the Legate's vast blade flashes as he raises it above his head. The screams of _Retribution! _from the Legion around her fade away to the sound of her own, rapid heartbeat - the Courier's red hair lifted by the breeze, pupils dilating in that very heartbeat.  
But all is not over.  
From the ridges over the violence a lone figure first appears, her face streaked with blood. She has short, black hair, and eyes greener than anything in the Mojave. In her hands she carries a chainsaw, armor catching the gleam of the moon. **"You shall not harm what is not your's!" **She yells, raising a hand over her head. In her hand she clutches something, something only Rasorah knows. The Legate pauses, looking up along with Rasorah. **"Hart," **She utters. Boone looks up, for Alexis is stood just over him. He can see the raw fury in her eyes, the exposed leader in her heart. Then, emerging from behind her, come the fiends. They come in their vast numbers, screaming and stamping their feet. They're chanting. The sound grows steady and loud, rumbling across the earth as if rain upon the Mojave**. "For the Courier! For the Hunt! For the Courier! For the Hunt!"  
**Alexis raises her hands and, yelling,** "Hunt for the Kill!" **Signals for her people to descend. The Fiends rain over the ledge, screaming in return, **"To kill for the Hunt!"**

Boone crouches a little lower to the rocks as the Fiends come over, their armor and flesh clashing among that of the Legion. There are screams, flashes in the night. The Legate finds himself confronted with what he classes as a savage. The tall female raises to her full height, holding the chainsaw confidently and flanked with two savage, wild dogs. **"You fight with the bear," **Says the Legate as he approaches, **"So you shall die beneath its' flag."  
"And you shall die in the dirt you came from~"  
**The Legate is overwhelmed by the surge of Fiends upon him, their weapons stronger than he'd anticipated.

Rasorah turns and, almost set upon by the Legion, releases a yell of frustration. She grits her teeth and, slamming her power fist into the sneering face, sends the body to the dirt. The Courier pivots with ease, pulling her rifle from her back with the very same motion. As she comes around she swings the rifle, driving the butt up into the nose of an oncoming legion. The gristle is forced back up into his head, killing him instantly - in the shower of blood Rasorah darts forwards, crouching to take a line of sight at the Legate. However, as she aims, a harsh force knocks her off-balance. She's sent sprawling against the floor with a grunt, her head spinning. A Legionnaire grins down at her, raises his foot, before his head explodes into flames. His body sinks to the floor and, from behind him, comes ED-E. At that moment Boone lifts his rifle and, taking sights on the Legate, fires. The Fiends scatter in fright as the huge body of the Monster of the East hits the floor, a pool of blood forming of grotesque halo around his head. The Fiends errupt with yells and screams of approval, their numbers dispersing to eradicate any of the surviving Legion.

The First Recon sniper descends from his position among the ridge, trotting down to meet Rasorah. The Courier is wounded from conflict, blood on her face and her leg shivering. Soundlessly, Boone wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her arm around his shoulders, taking the Courier down towards the gate. She struggles until she allows Boone to aid her move, relaxing against his form. Her teeth are gritted and her head is thudding; they head towards the gate when, in a flash of white, it bursts open.

From the white mist emerges the Rangers, clad in dark gear from head to toe. They form a formation besides the walls, one moving past Rasorah and Boone and into the camp. The Fiends are dispersing, running back to where they came in their remaining numbers. From the explosions' mist comes the General, tipping his hat to Rasorah and Boone. **"That was a fine bit of work back there. Truth told, I'm surprised you made it out of there in one piece. You and the Dam. I'm impressed to say in the least, and that's no easy thing. You've secured NCR's future - the administration sends its thanks, for what it's worth."** He says, removing his hat in a respectful gesture. Boone merely nods a little when Rasorah says,** "It was my duty, General, but I didn't do it alone."  
**The General replaces his hat, replying,** "And we're glad to have you - and whether you're a soldier of the Republic or not, you're in in my eyes. Sometimes the Republic gets lost along the way while it's trying to follow its instincts... But when soldiers like you come along... It helps them get back on track, and does it by example. And what you've done here today, that's going to keep us going for a while."  
"What now, Sir?"  
"We clean up, take prisoners, watch the east for any more trouble from the Legion... Though, I think they're still running, according to our scouts. After that, we'll see what happens when the dust settles and how the Mojave looks now without Caesar coming for its throat. Something tells me we better enjoy this breather while we can... And if that means Vegas, then you and the troops have earned it."**  
Silence from Rasorah. She looks down, not meeting anybody's gaze - Boone realises she's thinking hard about the decision she's about to make. When she looks up she smiles that crooked smile, saying, **"Maybe some travelling is in order." **The General nods, expecting she'd say something of the sort. Wild ones; can't keep them down.** "Can't keep the courier spirit down, eh? Fair enough. We'll clean up here. Kind of curious how this is gonna' pan out in the long run. But I guess history will tell us in its' own sweet time." **The General replies before, moving past the pair into the Camp, they proceed their operations. Boone receives a hearty pat on the back from many of the soldiers, especially Rangers. Then, their pace awkward and pained, the pair finally leave the scenes of carnage. As they leave Boone moves to lift Rasorah, flanked by ED-E as they head away from this horrid scene of slaughter and nightmares. The Courier lifts her head and, looking at Boone, she could think her punishment is over. They could be free.

Unfortunately, that's a lie.

As they walk along the dusty Mojave, dark forms begin to appear in the distance. Rapidly approaching, vast machines. Boone sets down Rasorah and, so very tired, he looks through his scope. **"Securitrons,"** He mutters then, squinting, his jaw tightens. Sat atop Victor's left shoulder is Rasari. Her long hair swept around her face by the wind of the Mojave, but her usual smile has been replaced by a terrible scowl. Obviously defeat didn't run well with her. Blood boiling with rage. How _dare _she just run away like that! Disgusted by her sisters' cowardice, Rasari has decided to finish the job. But the Republic stand in her way and, with only Rasorah to blame, she's hellbent on her revenge. **"Your sister's back," **Boone utters in a dark tone, turning to Rasorah. He stares at her. For Rasorah is slowly taking off her armor, piece by piece; she removes her power fist and places her weapons to the floor.** "Courier, she'll kill you,"** Boone says as the Secuitrons surround them, their forms gleaming beneath the silver moonlight. **"She doesn't want that yet,"** Rasorah mutters, watching as Victor helps Rasari down from his shoulder,**"I remember now, Boone. I remember what she did."**

Rasari steps forwards in the circle of Securitrons, looking at her sister clad in just leather. As she steps forwards she says, expression bitter, **"Secuitrons, go home. I have unfinished business with my ****_beloved_**** sister."**


	11. With a Vengeance

The skies stretch as a dark expanse over them, streaked with clouds of a slightly lighter shade - the horizon glows a vibrant shade of red in the distance, probably a source of fierce light or a fire. The dark forms of the securitrons roll away, leaving heavy tracks in the Mojave Wastes - _Securitron tracks. In the sand. _Momentarily, Rasorah casts her mind back. Back to that very day when she dragged her sister out from the wreckage, carrying her broken and bleeding form through the Mojave sand. She remembers each tear, each sting inflicted by the raging sand - each stumble and regret. Boone lifts his weapon as Rasari takes a pace forwards, but to his surprise she unholsters her weapon and, dropping it to the earth, proceeds to remove three blades and a machete from her form. They're all tossed aside and, spreading her arms, Rasari's expression twists into a snarl,** "You remember, sister of mine? Is that why you left me for dead, yet again?" **The smaller woman yelps in surprise; Rasorah lunges forwards, hand wrapping around Rasari's scarred through. The grip constricts and, watching her sister gasp for breath, Rasorah growls,** "It was you all along, Rari." **She drops the other female and, sinking to her knees, Rasari coughs.

Boone's at a loss. He stares at ED-E for a moment before looking back to the situation before him. He's unsure of what's occurring, why the women have dropped their weapons, and why Rasari seems to be _letting _Rasorah just do as she pleases. But he has his rifle in hand, prepared for the worst. He does flinch a little, however, when Rasorah delivers a seriously brutal kick to Rasari's side. There is the sound of shattering bone and, her whole body shivering, Rasari chokes again. "Fucking bitch," Rasorah snarls, eyes alight with malice, **"And to think I lost sleep over you. I should have fed you to the Legion Hounds when I had the chance."  
"You're not even going to ask me why?" **Rasari asks, grinning as she looks up at her sister through bleary eyes, **"You're going to follow Martyr Tradition without asking me ****_why_****?" **The elder sibling feels her upper lip curl in disgust and, watching Rasari raise to her feet with a jerky motion. A sigh and she grunts, **"Why? Why did you kill our parents and let those ****_fuckers _****into the Vault?" **The smaller sibling grins at the chance of answering the question and, suddenly dipping and seizing one of her blades from the floor, she hisses, **"'Cause I don't follow that foolish tradition, sister." **As Rasari lunges Rasorah takes a step back in the hopes to avoid a collision, but the smaller woman simply drives the blade into Rasorah's gut, twisting the blade viciously. Boone swears and, lining his weapon, prepares to shoot - until Rasari grins, saying, **"I wouldn't shoot, soldier. Your precious Courier is losing enough blood as it is." **And as she states this she drives the blade deeper, bracing Rasorah by gripping her shoulder. A strangled sound escapes Rasorah's throat and, slowly looking down, she swallows thickly. Rasari is laughing but, as she wraps a hand around the knifes' hilt, Rasorah feels her vision waver. **"I hated Mother, I hated Father. I hated you, I hated each of our brothers. I hated every last person in that Vault, Rasorah, and I let those ****_bastards _****in because I knew what would happen. You were too full of that bullshit family tradition to let me die, even though you knew I killed them. You should have let me ****_burn_****, sister." **Rasari leers at her elder, laughing when she spies Boone shaking a little with rage. His eyes flash beneath the glasses and, lining his shot, he attempts to take her out. He's out of ammo. That bullet that killed the Legate was his last.

Rasorah's on her knees, slowly dragging the blade from her gut. Blood oozes from the deep wound, spilling out over her hands and legs - it pools on the cracked earth beneath her, a vivid shade in comparison to the Mojave. As Rasorah's face drains of colour Rasari can only laugh at the situation, her hysteria an evident result of her own raw insanity. In a last resort Boone darts forwards, pulling his machete from his leg. But Rasari is faster; she simply coo's, **"Oh Victor!" **And the large machine rolls forwards, a vast arm swinging and sending Boone sprawling. He hits the ground at an awkward angle and, grunting in pain, his limbs grow numb - through his crooked sunglasses he looks at Victor, wondering why the machine turned on the Courier. It's not until he notices the silence from Victor - usually, he has something bright and overly happy to say. Catching a sight of Boone staring, Rasari merely comments, **"I had House reprogram him for my own protection. A woman can never be too careful, you see~." **Giggling she turns to the shaking Rasorah, plants her foot against her shoulder, and smirks.

She leans down slowly, long hair drifting around her face as she lowers her mouth besides Rasorah's ear. **"William Taylor never loved you, sister of mine... And you know what? He doesn't either - that First Recon sniper is searching for the remains of his wife within you. You're just a Mojave Ghost - wild enough, but yet so stupid -"  
"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago," **Rasorah grunts, the blade dropping against the floor. Her dark eyes lift, meeting Rasari's, before she summons the last of her strength and lunges upon her. Boone watches as Rasorah seizes Rasari by her throat, lifting her to slam her against the floor. **"Victor!" **Rasari is yelling, squirming beneath her sisters' vicious grip, **"Victor! Kill her, kill her!"  
"Sorry, no-can-do Partner! The Courier is my friend."  
"Machines don't have friends!" **Rasari shrieks, yelling when Rasorah kneels on her chest. The pressure is intense and, the hand around her throat tight, she continues to writhe. **"Bitch," **She hisses up at Rasorah, her face draining of colour when she watches the grin unfold on Rasorah's face. **"Family tradition, sis. ****_You kill the runt._**"  
**"Rasorah, no, I -"  
**Boone is unsure is he's horrified or fascinated. Rasorah straddles her sister, clamping both hands around her throat. Rasari gutters, eyes wild as she claws at Rasorah's hands. But the elder persists, hell-bent on throttling the life out of her sister. **"We could have started again," **She utters, voice choked, **"We could have been together, Rari." **The smaller woman laughs, the sound incredibly strangled due to constriction about her throat. Her lashes lift and, sneering, she chokes, **"Why would that be... Sister? Tra...dition? You're getting ... Soft in the head." **She utters a harsh, wheezing sound, her face discoloring beneath the moonlight, **"I was the one ... who cut Mother's throat, not the invaders. I... was the one... Who told the Legion we'd be ... escaping." **Rasorah lets out a sound kin to a battle cry. Very briefly she releases her sisters' throat, only to jab her in the face with a brutal punch - reeling, Rasari begins to choke for breath, holding her throat as Rasorah picks up the bloodied knife. Even ED-E is silent by this stage - the moonlight catches the metal. A bead of blood drips from the stated blade, splashing against Rasari's scarred face; her eyes snap open and, good pupil narrowing, she yells her sisters' name.

Rasorah brings the blade down with a brutal force. The blade slides through Rasari's throat, pinning her to the Mojave earth; blood begins to pool rapidly and, her eyes wide, Rasari stares up at Rasorah. A hand shivers, raising, clutching to Rasorah's arm in a vain attempt to cling to life. The blood stains her hair, matts it, and begins to pool into the earth below her. **"Sister..." **She chokes, blood obviously pooling in her throat. There is a horrendous gurgling sound before, coughing, blood sprays and splatters Rasorah's face and throat. **"Rari." **She utters, gently holding the hand that clutches to her arm.

Beneath the moonlight of the Mojave, Rari Martyr's miserable life ends. The light fades from her eyes and, her head slumping to the side, her heart ceases to beat. Silence. Boone, still terribly winded and weak, watches as Rasorah draws herself up from her sister, sits down on the cracked earth, and gently pulls Rasari into her lap. She tugs the knife from her throat and, tossing it away viciously, leans over her sister and clutches her form. A hand holding the bloodied hair, head bent in against the curve of Rasari's shoulder; Rasorah screams, and Boone has never heard a noise like it. It renders Boone completely immobile on the earth and, Victor rolling towards him, he barely hears him say cheerfully**, "Well that wasn't any good. I never liked her from the start." **  
**"Victor, take Boone to Novac."**  
In his haze of delirium and blood loss Boone's mind screams in defiance, but he cannot resist as the securitron plucks him from the floor. It's happening again. She's going to run away, leave him in that horrendous place again. She can't! His vision fades away, the image of Rasorah's grief remaining in his mind.

Rasorah clutches to the body of her sister for hours, until the sun raises. Blood dried on her face and form, body shaking due to her wounds. Slowly she raises, holding Rasari in her arms. And then?  
She walks into the Mojave.


End file.
